Picking Up the Pieces
by Nena-Daconte
Summary: A year after the Fall. A mysterious enemy has ruined the life of Sherlock's loved ones. Molly has a secret, John is in jail, Lestrade under investigation and Mrs. Hudson on an asylum. Sherlock has to go back and collest the pieces of his life as he attempst to catch this criminal with the help of two strangers. Molly/Sherlock EVENTUALLY!
1. Chapter 1

**So! This one will be my biggest story yet. Its starts about a year and a half after The Fall and guess what? Everything has become a mess without Sherlock! His friends are on a lot of trouble and its NOT a coincidence. This chapter is just to set the right mood and explain what has happened to each since the suicide. I also created a new character that will play a HUGE roll on the developing of this story.**

**Sherlock doesn't appears until the next chapter, so be patient and keep reading **

**The killer**

The day was just perfect.

John Watson couldn't help but to wonder if he was inside of one of those Hallmark cards filled with stupidly perfect landscapes and happy people laughing around a fireplace. Of course, those people were paid to fake their joy and his, instead, was completely sincere. For the first time in months, he was completely happy and nothing was going to take that away from him.

All thanks to a little person with blond wavy hair, pale skin, brilliant blue eyes, soft voice, slightly obsessed with perfection, which never got up early on Sundays, who cried with romantic movies, who preferred fish above cats or dogs, who liked strawberry ice cream, who was allergic to nuts, who adored pink over all things…

Mary was just perfect for him.

She had found him a few months ago. Actually, they had bumped into each other outside a cafeteria. He had helped her picking up her things and ( such a cliché!) they hands touched for a second. Somehow he found the courage to ask her out and she accepted. They spend a whole afternoon talking about those stupid things that seem so interesting for people in love. She was a writer, with a special talent for romantic novels that sadly, were only read by a few readers of her blog.

John liked her.

For the first time in a year, he didn't thought of Sherlock not even once, but he was too happy to feel guilty about that.

After just three months of knowing her, he kneeled and asked the big question. Hopeless romantic as she was, Mary accepted almost immediately.

And every day since then, she had been planning this awesome wedding on the country.

John smiled at his image on the mirror. He was wearing a tuxedo and he had cleaned up pretty nicely for the occasion. He didn't doubt his decision once and over all, the wedding seemed like a logical thing for two people who loved each other just as much as them.

A logical thing.

Sherlock would have loved that. For him, there was no logic in love which made it unnecessary and stupid for people.

A shade of sadness crossed John's eyes. Even with his horrible rude comments and his constant eye rolling, he would have been hell of a best man.

"Whish me luck" he whispered with a smile, talking to the memory of his dead friend.

Damn! Maybe the stress had began to affect his mind.

An opportune knock on the door broke the moment. John opened the door a little surprise at what he saw.

Lestrade seemed awfully worried and the glass of vodka on his right hand revealed he was trying to gather the courage for something. He was wearing a suit and John was about to ask him why wasn't him on the church with other guests when he saw that two police officers were standing behind him.

"What's…?" john began to ask, but he was quickly interrupted by the commotion caused by his soon to be father in law, who tried to tackled him.

Mr. Holland was a very respectful and shy man. John remembered the first time he met him and recognized that they hadn't talked a lot since then, but that seemed like no reason for him to attack him. The old man was quickly restrained by the two young police officers and Lestrade tried to impose some of his authority.

"Jones, Warrick, take Mr. Holland out of the hotel too cool down."

"I'm going to kill him! I swear to god, I'll kill him!" Mr. Holland yelled as he tried to punch, John observed the picture shocked and then the noticed the commotion coming from the other rooms of the hotel.

The faces of the disturbed guests and staff hotel members began to crowd the hallway as the two officers struggled to take Mary's father out.

"What the hell is going on Lestrade?" john asked hysterically.

"John I'm going to have to ask you to come with me to the station." Lestrade ordered with authority.

John blinked twice as he processed the information. "Are you insane? I'm going to marry in just an hour! What are you trying to…"

"John there's been an issue." Lestrade chose his words very carefully. "You may have to postpone the wedding."

John, after having work with Sherlock, knew how to take a hint. "Lestrade, where is Mary?"

"In the hospital." Lestrade confessed. John felt the strength on his legs abandoning him as hes face grew paler. "Someone poisoned her."

"Let's go." John agreed as he left the room where he had been so happy just second ago to jump on what would be into the most stressful 24 hours of his life.

**The crazy**

"This is outrageous! To take advantage of a poor old lady like me!"

"I'm sorry Mr. Hudson, but the doctor's report was extremely clear." The nurse sitting on the couch talked with this cold and emotionless voice that made Mr. Hudson shiver.

How could this have gotten so out of control?

She had received the first notification a month ago, when Mr. Silverman, the neighbor, had accused her of drowning his cat and hanging it out of his window. That was nonsense! She had never hurt anyone in her life.

The police had agreed to file the case after Lestrade testified on her favor.

Then it had been the letters. The whole neighborhood had received them, containing awful dead threats and insults. They tracked down the letters to her house and accused her of intimidation.

After that, things just fell apart.

No one would rent the flat and debts started piling up. Witnesses declared that she ran around naked on the street or that she woke up everyone by singing opera on the middle of the night. Mr. Hudson never did any of that. She remained in all day, scared to go out and face the shame over her.

Finally, public assistance had demanded her to take a physiological evaluation to see if she was still fit to take care of herself. She had answered the test, convinced that it was the proof of her complete innocence. Instead, they declared her mentally ill.

"I assure you St. Burgos hospital is a very nice place where they would take care of you." The nurse talked in a condescending tone, but the officers on the door confirmed that she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Can I..I have to…make a call?" Mr. Hudson's voice trembled and her eyes filled with tears. She had managed to keep the accusations in secret, but maybe it was time to ask for help. Lestrade or even John; who had unfortunately moved out before the whole thing started.

"No, maam, we have to leave immediately." The nurse stood up and then added with a threatening tone. "Don't make us drag you out. Save you the embarrassment."

"Let me get my purse." Mr. Hudson surrendered as a tear escaped her eye.

**The victim**

Molly's cell phone raged once.

Twice.

Thirteen times.

She heard the ranging, but she couldn't gather the strength to lift of the floor and answer. After the beating she had received, she made a huge effort just to keep breathing. She noticed the blood on the tiles of the bathroom and thought about how hard it would be to rub it off the floor.

He would be mad at her for making such a mess.

Then he would hit her again.

Molly broke off and started crying and sobbing as she curled up on the floor. Each scar, each bruise told its own story. She couldn't believe she was now one of _those_ girls.

One of those girls who hid every bruise under the makeup. How put on a smile every morning, even when they hadn't been able to sleep because of the pain. One of those girls who were unable to ask for help, even if they were going through hell. She hated her boyfriend, she hated herself for putting up with the torture, and she hated HIM for leaving her like this…she hated it all.

The phone ranged again.

Three missed calls from her mom wondering why she never called.

Four from john asking if she was going to the wedding.

Three of Mr. Hudson, who leaved no voice message.

Three from her boyfriend apologizing for the beating but threatening her not to tell anybody at the same time.

One from an unknown number.

Molly closed her eyes and fell asleep on the floor.

She was going to be okay.

Just not today.

**The pink bunny**

Valentina decided to take the long way home. She did that often now, whenever she needed time away from her mother. It was cold outside and a small cloud of vapor formed whenever she breathed. She liked this time of the afternoon, when the activity on the streets was dying out and there were no people on the streets. Those were the only moments of silence she got in all day. She threw her head back and enjoyed the wind floating through her hair.

Was she such a bad person for wanting a break?

Haven't she done enough?

After her mother got sick, she was the only one that stayed to take care of her. She put up with her night terrors, when she acted like a 10 year old, when she tries to strangled her. Valentina didn't think she was able to love. She had Aspenger and she had always been that "troubled girl" on the classroom. She had no boyfriend or friends because she couldn't handle the stress of a relationship. But she would never, ever allow anyone to take her mother away even if she was a danger to herself and to others.

That was love, right?

Or at least it was pretty close.

Valentina worked very hard every day to keep her mother in secret. No authority would allow a seventeen year old to take care of a psychotic mother. They had tried to take her away a few times but Valentina had always escaped. She quit school after teachers began asking too much questions. Luckily she was extremely good with computers. Almost brilliant.

And there were some fast and very illegal ways to get rich with computers, looks and brain; three things she had.

So when she saw the police car on her house she almost fainted. She quickly hid behind a parked truck and observed cautiously. Two police officers came out. A third one came out later, carrying her personal laptop. Valentina swallowed the knot on her throat. Another officer came out, dragging her mother.

Valentina repressed the urge to scream, to ran to her mother's arms and calm her down, to tell her that everything was going to be okay, to save her. Instead, she froze.

"Valentina! Valentina!" he mother called out desperately. She was only wearing a tin old dirty night gown and a slipper (only one). Her dark messy hair flied around her head, giving her a vulnerable air. _"¡Hija! ¿Quiénes son estas personas? ¡Valentina! ¿Dónde estás?"_

Valentina wanted to respond her mother's calling but then she listened as the first officer talked on the radio. _"Unidad 405 Zaragoza. Cambio. Vamos a nescecitar refuerzos."_ Then the Spanish officers looked around suspiciously and added. "Tell Mr. Player we found something."

The police was calling the central dispatcher for reinforcement. And then added something else in Spanish that made absolutely no sense for the young girl. Valentina took out her phone.

She didn't know what to do next, but obviously this was too big to handle on her own. Her mother was going to be taken to an asylum and after a quick scan of her computer, Valentina would become a fugitive. Ho the hell was Thinker? Why did the policeman talked in English?

Valentina texted as fast as she could ask the only man he knew she could trust for help.

"_Sherlock? This is Pink Bunny. I need some help."_

The response took no longer than ten seconds.

"_I told you to never contact me again unless it was urgent. So?"_

"_It's bad. Very bad. Meet you on the bridge?"_

Valentina struggled to text because of the tears on her eyes. She also tried to ignore her mother crying as the officers forced her into one of the police cars.

"_9 o´clock. Be careful."_

Another text came in shortly after she started walking away from her house, knowing she could never go back.

"_Bunny? Don't do anything stupid."_

_Of course not, Sherlock._ Valentina thought.

**Confused? Review me about any doubt you may have…also the Spanish traduction would be:**

"_**¡Daughter! Where are you? Who are this people? Valentina!"**_

**But it was kind of off character that the mother spoke in English given that she is Spanish. So…what do you think? Next chapter will be completely Sherlock POV, I promise!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**I'm so glad someone is reading this! Thanks to my first reviewer, I'll try to correct my mistake. I also have to state that I'm not a Native English speaker. Actually I'm Mexican, so if there's a mistake or two…I'm very sorry. Also, Molly will be on the next chapter, I promise. **_

_**By the way…**_

_**I promised! Sherlock POV…finally! **_

_So booooring! Is this really what his existence had reduced to?_

Discovering if the husband of that rich and powerful lady that made her fortune over cosmetic products was having an affair ( he was, in fact, with his best friend)? Finding out if the teenager daughter of that powerful oil company CEO was doing drugs (she wasn't, but she was a little bit…pregnant)?

Sherlock scrolled down the screen, searching something interesting in the ton of emails with cases that Mycroft sent him every week. It was, he guessed, his way to keep him occupied and out of trouble.

Mycroft failed completely.

The more affairs, secrets, vengeances, pregnancies, frauds, etc that Sherlock unraveled, the more he missed the old exiting cases. Truth to be told, he missed a lot of things.

He missed his lock for example.

He hated to see his image in the mirror every morning and having to face that horrible flattened hair. He didn't liked the emo-gothic image that Mycroft had imposed him, he thought it was a bit to extravagant. (People often overlooked what was obvious) but right now he depended on the money that Mycroft provided, so he had to deal with it.

But he still hated black eyeliner…it stringed like hell when he rubbed it off every night.

He missed his flat, too. Mycroft had managed to arrange him on a discrete building near an industrial area. "Grey sky, grey buildings, grey everything….you're going to love it." Mycroft predicted. Indeed, Sherlock did liked the discretion of the place but the Internet connection was terrible, so he was forced to visit a ciber coffee twice every month.

Today was one of those days.

The two lines of computers were lined back to each other and the only living beings on the place where Sherlock, a blonde teenager who listened to Metallica on her earphones, the owner of the coffee shop and his cat, which insisted on rubbing against Sherlock's leg.

Ignoring the possible diseases that the little hell creature might have given him, Sherlock tried to focus on finding something interesting on his email.

Luckily for him, there was a new email from an unknown contact.

_To: locked221 _

_From: playernumberone _

_Bored? Guess so. Maybe this will make your day:_

Next it attached the extract of an online newspaper

_**Innocent Sidekick or Cruel Murderer?**_

"_It wasn't a surprise for many when the police announced the arrest of John Watson, famous for his friendship with the famous Sherlock Holmes, dead a year ago. Part of the public opinion always suspected he was colluded with Holmes crimes and today, they were proved right…"_

The cat emitted a cried meow when Sherlock kicked it a meter away. The owner of the shop, luckily, was too busy lecturing the teenager for the volume on her music to realize his loved pet was on distress.

Sherlock got closer to the screen; quickly scanning the news's extract. It was written anonymously but Sherlock suspected certain reporter who hated him fiercely had something to do. "I'm going to kill her." Sherlock muttered as he kept reading

"_Watson was charged for the attempt of murder of his fiancé on her wedding day. She was poisoned with nut extract placed on a box of chocolates that the boyfriend had given her earlier. Mary Rightwatter was declared stable, but…"_

John was engaged? Sherlock filed that note on his mind palace for later research and keep scrolling down.

"…_with the arrest of John Watson, several other events unchained. Greggory Lestrade has been accused of protecting Watson and even of complicity on the crime."_

Great, know Lestrade would have another reason to hate him.

"_Mr. Hudson, former landlord of detective Holmes and close to john Watson couldn't be found to make an statement and this reporter found out she has been transferred to an hospital for mentally ill…"_

Sherlock felt strange. What was this feeling climbing up his throat and installing on his chest? The pressure became unbearable and he found himself gasping for air. But the news weren't over…

"…_Finally, the police department agreed to give a declaration. Apparently Mr. Watson will be investigated for the incident with his fiancée and the investigation on the dead of Sherlock's Holmes death will be reopened, this time with John Watson as suspect number one."_

Reopen his case meant trouble. It meant that files wouyld be inspected, the autopsy would be checked over and over and that many, many questions would be made to certain shy and hysterical pathologist who didn't handled pressure too well.

Sherlock dialed molly Hooper's number as he finished the reading.

"_Seems to this reporter that the friendship of this characters with the famous detective brought them nothing but trouble…"_

Nobody picked up at Molly's.

"Damn it, Molly!" Sherlock barked as he hit the desk with his fist. The owner of the computers and the teenager interrupted their conversation too look at him. The teenager smiled.

Sherlock looked away and finished reading the email.

"_I hope this is good enough to get the attention of "famous" Sherlock Holmes. If not, I can do better. Wanna try me?_

_Join me player number two."_

Sherlock swallowed hard and closed his eyes. There were too many things buzzing around his brain at the moment and he needed to analyze each carefully. First John and Lestrade. Cleaning their names was priority number one.

Then Mr. Hudson…maybe Mycroft could help with that. Make a call, or something.

Molly. He would have to visit her personally and talk to her. He sighted mentally. Dealing with an stressed, crying, stumbling, clumsy molly would take a huge deal of time that he didn't had.

Finally, finding out who was….

A new email.

And a text.

He read the text first.

"_Sherlock? This is Pink Bunny. I need some help."_

If Valentina texted, it was because he was her last option. He smirked. He liked the teenager girl. They were a lot alike. Maybe he could take ten seconds to help her.

"_I told you to never contact me again unless it was urgent. So?"_

"_It's bad. Very bad. Meet you on the bridge?"_

The lack of information was interesting. Valentina was a very methodic person, just like him. He liked her precisely because of that. When Mycroft had recommended a teenager to give him the documents needed for his new life, he doubted. But the girl had done an amazing job. A whole year, a passport, driving license, bank accounts, birth certificate, medical file…not a single question had been asked. Nobody doubted the documents were authentic.

But there was an issue.

Valentina referred to the bridge where she delivered him the documents a year ago. That bridge was in Spain.

Sherlock Holmes was in Mexico City.

What a dilemma!

The email… he almost forgot…

_To: locked221 _

_From: playernumberone _

"_Oh, I thought I could send you a little spoiler. Your little friend dies._

_So do you_

_End of spoiler."_

Sherlock connected the dots in just second. He took out his phone and texted to Valentina _"9 o´clock. Be careful."_ And soon after… "_Bunny? Don't do anything stupid."_

Then he texted again, this time to an unknown number.

"_Go to the bridge on Zaragoza park and look for a girl dressed in pink. She's about to be murdered. Stop it."_

Sherlock sent the text just in time to look up and see the teenager and the owner of the shop pointing at him with guns.

"_So predictable…" _he thought.


	3. Game on

Valentina waited punctually on the bridge, but Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. He still had four minutes, thought. The lights in the park created mysterious shadows that could perhaps have played a more susceptible mind, but not hers. She didn't believe in ghosts, spirits or any of those nonsense. That was one other thing she had in common with the famous detective. She smiled, remembering the day they met….

**Flash back, three months ago**

_Wednesday afternoon and the weather had decided to rebel against the prediction of a sunny day by enraging a terrible storm. Mycroft was a regular client and Valentina was very good at her work, so she wasn't surprised when she received Mycroft's call asking for fake papers for his brother. Valentina's clients paid the cost (scandalously expensive) because no one could do what she could. She smiled when the doorbell rang, knowing who to expect._

_Sherlock Holmes was soaking wet, wearing just a pair of Bermudas and a polo blue shirt. He didn't look like she had imagined, but the sparkle of intelligence on his blue cold eyes convinced her there was more than just the first impression. _

"_Come in." she ordered dryly, stepping aside so he could enter._

"_Peculiar…very, very peculiar." Sherlock mumbled as he shook up the excess of water off his cloths, nit caring to make a mess on the carpet._

_Valentina frowned. "Excuse me?"_

_The sparkle in Sherlock's eyes brightened and he looked almost exited. "You must be Bunny, my contact for the papers I need."_

"_Right." She nodded, shifting her weight awkwardly. "Now that I know you are who you say you are, we can leave the code names. My real name is Valentina."_

"_Who says I'm the one I say I am?" Sherlock interrupted her, taking a discrete look around the humble house. "You let me into your house…"_

"_Your chin. Your chin had a very similar bone structure to your brother's. your hair is most likely exactly like your father's." Valentina rolled her eyes as she talked in a calmed monothone pace. "You have loosen weight, exactly three ponds, but you still look like the pictures on the news." Sherlock's eyes widened, but other than that, he revealed no emotion. "You have a scar on your lip, most likely produced by a direct fist hit. Your eyes, your only not directly inherited trait, come from your great grandmother, who.."_

"_How?" Sherlock questioned abruptly, interrupting the girl's monologue. It was weird, like he wasn't used to having to ask questions instead of just knowing the answers. "How?" he repeated, tasting the bitterness of ignorance on his mouth for a few seconds._

_Valentina blinked twice before answering. Her green eyes looked curiously at the detective. "Well, that's my talent. I remember every face I have ever seen. Every trail, every outfit, every scar…that's why I'm so good at my job." Valentina smiled proudly "when I was thirthteen I developed a software, the only one of its kind, capable of reproducing every face and every possible combination of traits. I can recreate a face or invent a new person if I want to"_

"_Thirteen?" Sherlock raised his eyebrow obviously impressed._

"_Well, I had lost of free time." Valentina concluded._

"_no, you didn't." Sherlock smirked. "With your mother's sickness, you had to take care of her and hide from the authorities. You had to drop out of school precisely because of the lack of time for your activities. Your computers, your talent…that was you're only escape." Sherlock spoke on a cold and robotic voice but every word of truth stained on Valentina's heart. She tried it not to show a lot. "But that doesn't make your accomplishment any less remarkable.."_

_Valentina nodded simply and started climbing up the stairs, Sherlock took the hint and followed her._

_The superior floor was completely different to the rest of the house. Every space of the wall was covered either with a computer screen or a keyboard, forming a complete network that connected every single space on the place. Valentina sat down and started typing codes into the computers and Sherlock began questioning her._

"_So..Aspenger?" he slide in casually, like he had asked her about the either._

"_Valentina smiled, with her eyes still fixed on the computer "Well, I've never been diagnosticated, but yes, I think that's it."_

"_Boyfriend?"_

"_No." Valentina's voice then turned a bit more bitter. "I'm not good with people."_

"_Neither am I." Sherlock started pacing around and touching everything, but she didn't seemed to mind. "You're good with your mom."_

"_Because I have to. I take care of her because…it seems fair enough. She took care of my when I was little right?" Valentina sighted as a virtual image of the detective appeared on the screen. It looked exactly like him, but it wasn´t a photograph but an image designed from Valentina's observation._

"_How did you knew about my mom?" Sherlock kept asking questions as the girl modified and copied his image into different papers. One by one his passport, driving license…etc._

"_I saw a picture of your family on Mycroft's office. It was like a family bloodline or something like that…" _

"_Mycroft hid it as soon as you spotted it. You could only have seen the image a few seconds.." Sherlock deduced._

"_I'm that good." Valentina smiled._

_An hour later, the documents were printed out and Sherlock stood outside the teenagers house._

"_I'm guessing that Mycroft already paid you." Sherlock awkwardly suggested, but the girl nodded. _

"_I should get going then." He stated and then added, "Your mom is probably about to wake u.."_

"_Valentina!" A loud and hysterical cry interrupted the conversation. The girl rolled her eyes._

"_It was nice to talk to some that…understands." She was not great at expressing her emotions either. _

"_Here's my number." Sherlock gave her a small paper with a terrible handwrite. "You might find it useful one day."_

_Valentina looked at the number for a few seconds and then back to Sherlock. Then she did something completely unexpected. She leaned and kissed Sherlock's mouth corner. "Take care Sherlock. " she whispered and then closed the door._

_Sherlock touched his cheek delicately. The coldness he felt had nothing to do with the chilly September air._

_**Back on the present day**_

But Valentina wasn´t alone, in fact, she had never been alone. Santiago remembered the day that he heard that there was an English man who hired homeless people as informants; being only twenty but with a severe crack addiction, made him the perfect candidate for two reasons: lot's of contacts and a desperate need for money.

They met on a coffee shop about a month ago..

_He turned to be a skinny and tall pale man with little blue eyes. Santiago wondered if the rumors were real, because the man didn't looked like someone who hanged around with the homeless. He was about to turn around and leave when he spotted him. _

"_Sit down," the man ordered._

_Santiago looked at him firmly but didn't obeyed because his pride keep him from trusting the man. The stranger rolled his eyes and added "sit kid, we both know you could use the money"_

_Santiago doubted for a few seconds but finally his curiosity beat him and he took a seat across the table with a defensive attitude. He had never liked being told what to do…in fact, that's why he left his home._

"_So, how much?" the young man questioned the stranger, who smirked._

"_You're not even going to ask what kind of favors I need?_

_What did he meant? Oh. God! He was one of "those" People had warned Santiago about those rich fellows who tried to abuse some drug addict or hoe for sex favors, but he didn't looked like that #type. Santiago felt suddenly repulsed_

_And then the man laughed, something that looked off character on him. It was a cold and short laugh, almost like he repressed it before it was through. "It's not that kind of favor." The man read his thoughts "You're obviously straight and so am I, in case you wondered."_

"_So if it's not that?"_

_The man sighted. "I need you to look after someone. A girl. She's been hanging out with some dangerous contacts and I fear for her." The mad handed Santiago an envelope. "Here is her picture and her data. Her name is Valentina."_

_Santiago meditated for a few seconds. E certainly needed the money, but this job seemed to easy to be true. Maybe even dangerous. "Why me?"_

"_You're young; on your 20. You have a strong constitution, defensive wound on both of your fist and trails of a recent fight which you obviously won. You don't have any tattoos or scarst that could be identifiable or rememberable, your military coat, your haircut and your combat boots repress the repressed dream of your childhood enlisting on the army. Maybe your father was a military, because the batch on your chest is certainly not yours." The stranger talked with a cold and monotone voice but there was a sparkle of excitement as he analyzed Santiago. When he ended, Santiago had only one question. _

"_Who are you?"_

"_My name is Sherlock Holmes."_

**Hi! I know that was a bit long, but I needed to set some background for my character! I hope you liked her and I promise this will be eventually Molly/ Sherlock, but a little jealousy is always good, right? Nest chapter all about molly and John, promise!**

**PD. Kind of cliffhanger on Sherlock current status, but hey, I'll keep it interesting!**


	4. Akward Reunion

**Finally, Molly and John! Plus, ft. Sherlock Thank you for your reviews, it really helps me to know someone is reading out there! Enjoy…**

John Watson was an extremely rational man. Anyone who had hanged around Sherlock as long as he had done just acquired this sense of analysis and comprehension of reality. However, John's hallucinations were very vivid. This one, for example, was the image of Mary, beautifully dressed on her wedding outfit, with soft curls twisted into a loose bun and a smile that could light up a whole town. She stared at John from the other side of the prison bars. Then her expression changed. Her eyes opened widely in terror as her mouth opened and closed repeatedly searching for air. She gasped a few times and her face started turning blue.

John pressed his face against the bars and reached for her, but the fake image of his fiancé was out of his reach, so he had to stand there just watching as she felt into the floor twisting and convulsing for air.

John felt his eye watering as he screamed in frustration.

No, it wasn't real. But it seemed real.

Lestrade had come to inform him that Mary had survived, but she was delicate. That was twenty three hours ago and since then, nothing…

"_She could be dead"._ A voice whispered into his head, but he slammed it away, hitting his fist against the concrete wall

"No!" he screamed out loud, hearing only the echo of his own voice responding.

"_She could be dead. You could be in love with a ghost…you killed her John."_ His subconscious was tricking him. This time he could swear that Sherlock's voice talked inside his head.

"Shut… up …" John muttered, trying to repress the tears.

"Think John, you send her those chocolates, right?" the voice of Sherlock questioned him, making him hit his face against the walls, trying to expel it.

"Yes. I bought them a week ago. There were her favorites, she ate them all the time, and there was no way…"John surrendered to his imminent madness and played along with his dead friend memory

"Think John! Something must have changed! If she ate it all the time, something must have changed this time so,.."

"The boy." John's eyes popped wide open and he even could picture Sherlock rising his eyebrows in surprise. He continued explaining his realization out loud even if he was completely alone on the cell. "The groceries kid. The package I grabbed was a little worn out, so he went looking for a new one on the back of the shop."

"Good. Now think about his looks. What did he was wearing? How old he was? How did he smell?" Sherlock's hallucination now walked around the tiny cell as John rubbed his face and took a seat on the simple mattress, ruining his tuxedo iron on the process.

"How did he smell?" John couldn't repress a grin. Even Sherlock's memory was irritating.

"Seriously?"

The hallucination figure just rolled his eyes.

"He was young, almost twenty I'd guess. Covered with pimples and greasy curly hair. He wore glasses. That's it…" John described the boy as he mentally pictured his image, then he noticed a detail he had missed before. "The tag."

Sherlock's image waited patiently.

"The employees wear a tag with their names clipped on their vest. To identify them." John was excited because he knew that detail was important but he couldn't figure out why it was important. "The tag of the boy, it had letters. Random letters that didn't formed any word."

"Good! And what does that tells us?" the hallucinated image of Sherlock encouraged John to talk, but then someone opened the door of the cell and the image of Sherlock vanished in the air.

An unexpected visitor.

"Molly?" john doubted before standing up and analyzing the face of the person standing inside the cell. It was true, the person did resemble a little Molly Hooper, but that couldn't be her. To begin with, why did she have bruises and cuts all over her face? Why did she have those dark circles around her eyes?

The unknown person tried to smile, but her eyes watered and she had to hide her sobs behind the long sleeves of her sweater.

"Molly!" John recognized her as soon as she started crying and she held her on a tight hug.

The gesture was a little awkward. They had never been exactly close, but John was glad to see a familiar face and molly just seemed like she needed to be hugged.

It took some time for both to calm down and break apart the embrace, but when they finally did Molly seemed much calmed. "John, Lestrade send me."

John nodded to prove he was hearing closely and invited molly to seat next to him on the mattress. The place was still a prison cell and John couldn't help but to be a little embarrassed for the urine smell and the obscene drawings on the walls, but she didn't seemed to care.

"She says Mary has been moved to the common room with other patients and that she's recovering." Molly repeated the words like she had learned them by memory, which she probably did. "He also wanted to apologize because he is not going to be able to help you anymore. Internal Affairs is investigating him for complicity on your…crime."

John remained quiet, assimilating the news.

"There's more..." molly closed her eyes and fist as she got ready to let go of the secret that had been drowning her for months. She took a deep breath and then let go. "Sherlock is alive."

John didn't even blink. The possibility that Sherlock might be alive was too harmful for his mind to even begin processing it. Considering it would be lighting up a light, a hope, that might be blown away as soon as it lighted up. For months now, Watson had seen his former best friend on every shadow on the night, on the face of strangers passing by him on the street, on some suspicious case on the newspaper. Each and every time it had turned out to be just a devastating disappointment.

He couldn't bare another one, not now.

"Molly, dear…" John started awkwardly. "I know it's painful. I can imagine how painful it must be for you, but this lie you have made up…"

Molly jumped out of the mattress and when she did so her face flinched in pain as she grabbed her ribs. "I'm not lying! I helped him fake his dead! I signed a fake defunction act so that everybody thought..."

"I saw him. I saw him jumping and I saw…" John's voice broke off a bit as he stood up to face Molly with his fist closed. He tried to control his rage, but this was just too much for him. "Stop it Molly!"

"No!" Molly yelled. She then blurted out explanations that were too good to be true. "He planned it all, the messenger on the bike knocked you out so you couldn't see the cable that pulled him to a soft landing, I placed the blood myself, he had this drug _anoxemilia algerrobe_…doesn't matter, it slowed his heart beat so it was unperceivable.

"He's dead!" this time John screamed at her with pure rage and he stepped forward a bit too aggressively. She instinctively protected her face as her whole body started shaking.

John realized what he had done and he felt purely embarrassed. Molly looked very fragile as she stood there, trying to shield her tiny body with her hands and repressing the urge to cry. That was clearly a defensive posture that she was used to; but why? "_What have they done to you Molly?"_ he thought as he felt his body relaxing

"I'm so sorry. I am." John couldn't find the right words to express his regrets, so he tried to pronounce the only one he knew with as much feeling as he could.

"It's okay." Molly lowered her hands and then added with a soft smile. "Really."

The buzzing of a phone interrupted the conversation. Molly pulled out her cell phone and read "Unknown number" on the screen. She answered it. "Hello?"

"Turn the speaker on…" her heart skipped a beat when she heard the voice of the detective

Sherlock sent the text just in time to look up and see the teenager and the owner of the shop pointing at him with guns.

"_So predictable…" _he thought.

First of all he had to get off their target. He quickly slipped under the table, just in time to avoid the first bullet that crashed on the screen of the computer he was using. The floor was made up of tiles and it was easy for him to use the impulse of his own body to knock the teenager down. Just as quick as he knocked him down, he stood up and forced the teenager to get up as well.

Now he was on a better position. He stood behind the teenager, capturing his head with his left hand on a tight judo position he had read about once. With his right hand he was capturing the teen's arm, controlling the direction to which the gun on his hand pointed. And right now, it pointed to the second shooter, who looked more than worried now.

Sherlock considered all the possibilities in about .45 millisecond (exactly) First he thought he could let one safe and shoot the other. But from the angle of the gun and the fact that he could only shot the one who seemed elder and more professional (therefore, more useful) he tossed that idea.

Instead he remembered Tuesday 8 of 2010 on the lab with Molly Hooper.

That day he had agreed to stay over extra hours to see how she practiced a pigmentation study on a corpse. It consisted on injecting a blue dye into the veins and to see on a X ray how the dye travelled through the veins. It had been amazingly interesting and it had provided him very useful annotations for further research even if he did had to bear with Molly asking about his favorite colors and blushing every time he brushed accidentally any part of her body.

But, most important, he learned where all the important veins were located ( he already knew the topic, but this time he learned to locate even the smallest tiny vessel of the human body) so it came across like no problem to shoot the shop owned on five inches above the clavicle, making his gun fall to the ground and leaving his arm completely unuseful ( probably for the rest of his life) Then he gave the kid a soft hit on the back of his nape on a very specific place, knocking him down immediately.

Mental note, he must get the next volume of Martial Advanced Arts.

Unfortunately, when he walked over to interrogate the owner, he discovered he was dead. Judging by the trail of saliva coming down his mouth and the fact that his face looked swallowed and his eyes a bit popped out, Sherlock inferred he had consumed a suicide pill.

His employer must had been very careful to command him to ingest the pill to avoid any interrogation; clever man.

Without having time to regret the lost of his source of information, Sherlock perceived the vibration of his phone.

_-DR. Hooper is visiting Dr. Watson on his cell. It's time for you to come back, brother._

_-MH_

Sherlock sighted as he dialed Molly's number. She picked up and without further introductions he ordered_._ "Turn on the speaker."

Both persons in the cell looked at each other and then at the cell phone now resting on the mattress.

"Hello John." Sherlock greeted with casual voice, but John had a knot on his throat that prevented him from greeting back. "Okay. That's rude. I come back from dead and you don't even..."

The noise of a crowded street suffocates Sherlock's last words. "Wait a minute."

The roar of the street is replaced by the sound of light conversation and glasses and dishes hitting. "That's better." Sherlock sights. "Now, Molly Hooper. Why the hell would you be this stupid?"

John looks at Molly, who seems embarrassed at first, but then something clicks on her thoughts and her look fills with rage.

"How did you found out I was here?" she asks firmly.

"Well, I had Mycroft supervising the persons with which I held some kind of close relationship. John was top of the list…" Sherlock explained casually and John understood then where the conversation was heading and he tried to prevent his friend.

"Sherlock…" he pronounced the name with fear that it might slip out of his mouth and then vanish.

"Oh, John! Is good to hear your voice again. Now, talking about your shameful situation, I think I have a solution." Sherlock, unaware of the disturbance he caused on the emotion of his friends, sounded quite exited.

"In what place I am, Sherlock?" Molly interrupted Sherlock. She had her eyes closed and she breathed heavily.

"Excuse me?" Sherlock's voice questioned.

"In what place of the surveillance list you gave to your brother am I in?" Molly had her eyes still closed and John noticed that she held her breath as she waits for an answer.

"Oooh! Well…this is awkward.. You're not in the list." Sherlock answered and Molly opened her eyes suddenly. They were filled with tears. "You are not part of my closest environment circle. Molly, you don't need protection, anyway."

Molly let out a cold and cruel laugh. Then she looked at John and he had to repress a shiver caused by the coldness of her staring. "Good luck with him."

She collected her coat and her bag, but leaved the phone. Before leaving, she turned back a last time and talked to the phone. "Sherlock?"

"Yes?" Sherlock seem as uncomfortable as John.

"You don't know shit." She muttered and then leaves.

John remains in silence, trying to assimilate what just happened. "What's wrong with that woman? Her shift of humor may be coherent with her lack of progesterone…is she menopausic? Not likely…maybe some disorder…" Sherlock had lost himself on his mind palace and John has to interrupt him.

"Sherlock. I don't want to be rude or anything." He ran his hands trough his face. "But I'm on a bloody cell and you're dead. So either I'm losing my mind, or you tricked me an d believe me , you better tell me I'm insane!"

"Your mind is completely healthy John. Well, besides a sick need for a woman's affection…" Sherlock sounded serious, but he was probably grinning. "Now walk out of there and get into the car waiting for you outside. I'll join you and Molly on the airport."

John had to repress a course "This is jail! I can't just walk away!"

"Yes you can. Well, only for the next fifteen seconds. That's as long as Mycroft could arrange. So…go." Sherlock ordered.

Then he hanged up. Just like that.

John wanted to think things through. He hadn't accepted the fact that Sherlock was still alive. In his mind all what had happened, included Molly, was just a gigantic (and very real) hallucination but before he can reconsider, he found himself inside the black car. "Shit!" he muttered as the vehicle started moving.

Santiago's POV

The girl was pretty. Okay, she was kind of gorgeous. Even from the distance Santiago could appreciate the softness of her hair flying with the wind and her perfect features staring at the darkness of the park. What is she doing with the gothic freak? The young man wondered. Until now, Holmes had kept his part of the deal and his monthly doze of cocaine had arrived punctually each time. So he had kept his part of the deal and he kept looking after the girl. Santiago couldn't help to feel like he was taking advantage of the man because on this month, the girl ( Valentina…that was her name) had been perfectly safe. Excepting that moron who was staring at her legs on the bus. Santiago had beat the crap out of him just for doing that.

He was in fact just about to turn off the cigarette and call it a night ( the girls didn't seemed to be going any soon) when he spotted the figure. He was tall, almost two meters and with the complexion of a footballer. He approached the girl silently and she didn't noticed him; not even when he was just a few inches away.

"Fuck!" Santiago muttered as he started jogging towards the bridge. The enormous footballer took out a plastic bag and with a single and fluid movement he covered the girl's face. She didn't even had time to scream and by the time that Santiago was reaching the beginning of the bridge, the man was pulling the bag so tight around her head that she was lifting the girl's body entirely and her feet kicked desperately looking for support. Santiago talked the man and the girl, knocking both over the bridge and into the cold water of the pond below.

The water wasn't deep and besides the shock of the freezing water against his skin, Santiago felt his skin peeling off at the contact of the rocky button. _"So English man was not paranoid then, huh?"_ he concluded with a note of humor. Then he reached up for air, but his attempt was blocked by a gigantic hand that covered his head and pushed him under.

"The troll is alive, great!" he thought with the little neurons that were not asphyxiating yet.

The lack of oxygen made every breath painful, but he had always been able to keep his head cool, even under the most stressful conditions. He looked for a rock big enough to knock the gigantic down and then he slammed it against his head.

The immediate release of his body and the splashing sound next to him made it very clear he had hit his target. After taking a good breath of fresh air, he reached for the girl, who was floating unconscious. He turned her around and with relief he noticed she was still breathing. After brushing the wet pieces of hair out of her face, Santiago realized the girl was astoundingly beautiful.

"Who are you, dear?" he asked out loud as he prepared to lift her princess-style. "And why everybody seems so interested in you?"

No one answered and Santiago lifted the girl and walked away from the pond. Meanwhile the blood was starting to dilute with the water leaving a bright red color shining on the reflection of the moon in the pond.


	5. My Prince Charming

**Hey! Thanks a lot for your reviews guys! They are really encouraging I hope you enjoy this next chapter and tell me what you think !**

Valentina woke up on the insides of a luxurious plane. As her eyes adapted to the light, panic started rising inside her. She struggled frenetically to take off her security belt as she tried to make some sense out of things. Her whole body felt numb and her last memory was falling into the freezing waters of the pond after someone attacked her. She needed to escape…

…but a set of strong hands kept her from doing so. She was startled by a young man holding her down gently on her seat. "You shouldn't do that, baby. We're about to land."

Valentina couldn't help but frowning at someone calling her "baby" but her face should still reflect some fear because the boy added. "Sherlock Holmes sent me to look after you."

She relaxed a bit. Sherlock was looking after her. That was good right? "I'm Santiago, by the way."

"Valentina." She responded with a shy voice.

"So now, Valentina, could you tell me why everyone seems do interested in killing you?" Santiago smiled.

"I don't know." Valentina responded sincerely and then she added with a sight as she looked through the plane's window. "I wished I knew."

Sherlock had an awful flight. For starters, he was trapped between two overweight tourists who drooled all over him during the whole flight. The flight attendance lady, a young politic science's student who had an enormous debt on her student loan and hoped to pay it with this miserable job, neglected his request for a meal containing at least one of the basic nutrients for his survival (he first demanded a wellington stake and potato soup, but given the girl's look, he decided to be more flexible.) and she had given him some rotten and salty peanuts.

He was so happy to get out of that mortal flying cage that he didn't even had time to complain or to explain the girl that with this salary she would complete paying her debt in twenty years and three months. Sherlock hurried to the exit and scanned the crowd.

"He's here." He whispered, trying to convince himself. "_He must."_

And then he spotted him.

John was standing there, searching for a familiar face. He hadn't seen Sherlock, but he already looked worried. He looked terrible. The dark circles under his eyes revealed Sherlock he had not slept well. He had changed his clothes and he wore one of those hideous wool sweaters. A policeman passed nearby and John lowered his head. It was clear that he was still paranoid about the jail thing, Sherlock concluded.

Over all, he felt happy to see his old friend. Right now, he was in an extreme need for someone to rely. There was also another feeling, some kind of anxiety for the reunion. Sherlock tried to not over think it (which was incredibly hard for him) and he approached cautiously.

"Hi." He greeted, more shyly that what he had wished to sound.

At the beginning, John didn't recognize him. Then, slowly, he began to process the image in front of his eyes. Sherlock grinned. John took a step forward and Sherlock guessed he would hug him. "Oh, well, I can bare one hug." He thought.

So it was quite a surprise to be hit straight on the face.

"You jerk! I went to your funeral, son of a bitch!" John's words were severe but they didn't match the relief on his eyes.

Sherlock had never been a good emotion reader. So he was kind of still a bit puzzled as he caressed his swollen and bleeding nose. He was even more intrigued when John pulled him close, this time for a hug.

"We have a lot to discuss." John finally stated when they separated. Sherlock nodded and they both walked to the food court. Sherlock noticed a good number of people followed the pair with suspicious looks as they walked away.

Two coffees and three and a half hour later, it was all set. John was relief to find out he was set up by someone and he wasn't responsible for Mary's accident. Sherlock didn't said anything when John explained Molly's reaction to his phone call, but his friend detected a flinch of pain in his eyes.

Molly was an issue. He would have to deal with her later. Now he had to keep his head cool and rational jut the way he liked it.

"So, what's up with the make up?" John asked mockingly as he pointed out Sherlock's black eyeliner.

"It was my disguise. Not one of my best, I agree." He admitted with a grin.

Sherlock…err…what are we still doing here?" john asked uncomfortable. He was clearly still paranoid as he looked around for someone to jump on him with a net to capture.

"Relax, John…Look, they are here already…" Sherlock calmly pointed at two persons who were approaching the table. One was a boy who looked jetlagged and pretty beaten up. The other was a younger girl, who was beautiful but looked very scared and pale.

Sherlock was frowning. As the boy took seat next to John, Sherlock made it clear he was not happy. "The deal was taking care of her."

"So I did. I'm Santiago Fernandez, nice to meet you." The young men shook hands with Watson, who introduced himself cautiously.

"She was almost chocked to dead, stupid. That's not okay." Sherlock hissed at the boy, who just stared back.

"How..?" John asked the question just because he had missed Sherlock's monologues during this year.

"She has trails of hypoxia. You know what that is, idiot?" Sherlock now sounded truly threatening and John swallowed as Santiago clenched his fists. "Is partial or complete deprivation of oxygen. Because hemoglobin is a darker red when it is not bound to oxygen, in cases where the oxygen is displaced by another molecule, such as carbon monoxide like the one Valentina ingested during the few seconds she was breathing on a plastic bag, the skin may appear 'cherry red' instead of cyanotic."

John analyzed the girl who apparently was named Valentina and spotted the little bright red points under her eyes.

"Santiago…" the girl finally spoke. Her voice was soft and gentle. "You must be hungry. Go get something to eat."

Santiago looked at her and then at Sherlock. Finally he decided it was better not to have a confrontation in the middle of the airport and left the girl his seat. John detected a small trace of concern when he left. He felt guilty for the girl's suffering. Apparently Sherlock too.

But why? What was this girl doing there? John couldn't make sense out of it, but apparently he couldn't made sense of much lately.

"What about the woman?" Valentina asked Sherlock and he seemed to relax a bit

"What about her?" he responded with a question and a curled smile.

"You said there would be a woman." Valentina's green eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Apparently she's mad at me. For some stupid sentimental reason I can't figure out." Sherlock rolled his eyes in frustration.

There was a sparkle there? Complicity? John seemed completely invisible as the dialogue developed. He was not only jealous but intrigued as well. Who was this stranger and why would she be "friends" with Sherlock?

"She's important, right? We must get her. So you can go get my mom." Valentina stated and then stood up. Sherlock nodded in agreement and stood up as well. They had actually started walking away before Sherlock remembered he was leaving something behind….

…His best friend for starters.

"Oh, John! I almost forgot." Sherlock realized, turning back suddenly. John thought he was about to be introduced, so he extended his hand, but instead Sherlock gave him a small ticket. "My luggage will be on the gate 34."

John rolled his eyes. Definitely Sherlock hadn't changed a bit. Santiago joined the group. John walked next to Sherlock as the two youngsters walked behind them and John could hear them talk.

"Here, I brought you pizza." Santiago offered a slice as they walked.

Valentina took it shyly but then blushed and mumbled. "Thanks."

"You know, I know it sounds like the wildest idea ever, but people sometimes actually eat the pizza and not just hold it." He mocked when he observed Valentina stared at the food like if it belonged to another planet.

"Thank you, but I don't eat food that _touches"_ she enunciated the word with such repulsion that John discretely took a look back to see what was happening. "The ingredients are touching."

Valentina looked at Santiago with expatiation on her face, but he simply took the pizza away from her hands and throw it away. Then he disappeared. She looked disappointed of herself. "Good, he was slowing us down." Sherlock muttered, convinced he had got ridden of the boy.

So it was quite a surprise when he came back, handing Valentina a simple glassed donut and wearing a triumph smile. She thanked him and ate the donut as Sherlock sighted in desperation.

"Molly?" the voice on the dark caused Molly to jump back a few meters. She had delayed her arrivance to the flat because she couldn't gather the courage to get in. Michael would be waiting for her.

She pressed her body against the wall behind her, trying to gain some confidence. "Hey Mike, I was just about to call."

"Really?" the man asked sarcastically. Then he turned up the lights and revealed himself. He was tall and muscular fit. He wore his black hair combed back with gel and his blue eyes were surprisingly familiar. Except for the evil on them.

He stood up and approached Molly, who curled back a bit. He snorted and caressed her hair gently. "I told you not to go out, Molls." Molly started sobbing and her eyes filled with panic. " . ." he whispered every word into her ears

Then he violently grabbed her hair and lifted her body of the ground. She screamed as she felt the pressure on her head.

She had been there before, she knew what was coming. So it was a relief when the door of the flat busted open and Sherlock Holmes arrived on his shinning armor.

Well, he was wearing his signature purple shirt and traces of eyeliner, but Molly still thanked his presence.

Michael laughed. Partially it was just because he was an idiot but other part laughed because he didn't thought the skinny tall man could fight him. Michael didn't know that after just a millisecond of analyzing the image in front of him, Sherlock deduced enough and his eyes filled with mortal rage.

Next thing anyone saw was Sherlock tackling the gigantic guy and punching him of the floor.

Molly just stood there, caressing her hair and not believing what she saw. John also stared, after appearing at the door. There were two other people Molly didn't know, but they did nothing as well. They were all too shocked by Sherlock's violence. Quickly the strange girl advanced to the fighting pair. She placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and he turned back to see him.

"I think he's unconscious…or death. Anyway, he's no longer a threat." Then the girl looked at Molly and back to Sherlock. "Your pet on the other side, looks like she's about to have a heart attack."

Molly blinked twice. Once to process the fact that Sherlock Holmes was standing in her living room and twice to realize she had just been insulted.

"I'm not…! Who are you? What…?" she mumbled incoherencies, something that appeared to be usual whenever Sherlock was around.

But she never got to finish any of her questions because she was dragged out of the flat by Sherlock.

They went downstairs and they walked together through the dark and cold streets. Walked together meant that Sherlock dragged Molly around. Finally she got tired and stopped. Sherlock tried to pull her, but she resisted.

"Sherlock!" molly called in desperation. Sherlock turned around and Molly realized he seem conflicted. Flashes of several emotions ran through his sight. He was hurt, confused, angry…for a man who often showed no emotions, that was a lot to process at once.

"81-232-234-121. My cell phone number." He recited quickly, "87-300-500-000 UK's SOS number for domestic violence. 81-234-575-232 John's cell phone number. 81-335-353-678 Lestrade's number…" Sherlock stopped and Molly tried to make some sense of what he was saying, but given the fact that she couldn't, he explained with frustration. "Have you forgotten these numbers, Molly? Do you have some kind of premature mental amnesia I should know about?"

Sherlock was now screaming to her and she felt her eyes burning with tears. They haven't seen each other in months and all he wanted was to yell at her?

"No, Sherlock, my head is just fine!" she screamed back with resentment.

"Then why the hell wouldn't you call for help?" finally Sherlock exploded.

Molly then understood he wasn't mad at _her_. He was mad her _being hurt_. She felt the urge to cry. "I..I..I don't know."

Molly lied to Sherlock for the first time. There was a reason she had let this happen, but she wasn't ready to tell him. After all, he had just come back and there were no guarantees he would stay. Sherlock seemed surprised, but then he changed that emotion for anger; contained and elegant anger that to Molly's eyes, just made him more irresistible. "Fine. I'm going back to interrogate him." He ran his fingers through his hair and gave her a last look before leaving.

As he walked away, molly could hear him muttering "I can't believe she's so stupid."

She broke off in tears.


	6. Too many questions

**Hey there! Well, first of all, I need to apologize for the delay and also excuse me if I'm making absolutely no sense on some of the plot details. I'm in the middle of my final exams and I'm going kind of crazy :/ Anyway, thanks for the people who are reviewing or following this story, I hope you like it as much as I do.**

Back on the flat, there was an awkward situation going on. A pretty beaten up man was tied up you a chair. John was staring at him and he stared back.

"You're mind reading technique is impeccable John, but would you mind asking the questions out loud, so the rest of us can hear?" Sherlock broke the silence as he entered the room.

"Where is Molly?" John ignored the joke and noticed Sherlock looked pretty agitated.

"Downstairs, probably trying to hid her tears. " Sherlock answered emotionless. John had no further questions because he was convinced he wasn't going to get any more answers.

"Why were you engaged in a relationship with Dr. Hooper?" Sherlock asked the tied up man.

"He told me too." The man showed no fear and he looked confident (really beaten up, but confident) "He also said you would be here. He said you would bring the doctor, the gorilla and the bitch."

Santiago snorted when he understood he was "the gorilla" and he was ready to fight back when Sherlock interrupted him.

"Did he mention why would I bring Valentina?" Sherlock interrogated the man professionally but his eyes were already scanning every detail to find out more.

"He didn't say. Well he did said something about simplifying things for him But my guess is that…" the prisoner´s eyes drifted off to the figure of the young woman. Valentina was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a white top that fitted her body just right. She didn't blush or backed up at the staring of the man. "…you're having some fun with that thing sweet asss…" the final words were blurted out quickly because Santiago interrupted the man by knocking him out from a single hit.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Way to go cave man. Now we have no information."

Santiago turned back to look for support in Valentina but she just shrunken her shoulders.

Sherlock needed the fresh night air to clear his mind. He had published an article about the benefits of soft shifts on the temperature of the atmosphere into the brain connections on a medical magazine under the pseudonym of Dr. Hoover.

Why his mind palace seemed like such a chaotic place lately? Maybe it had to be related to the fact that for the second time of his life, the life of those who cared for him were endangered.

Those who cared…

Molly.

"Sherlock." A soft voice startled him and when he turned around he saw that Valentiuna had decided to join him on the balcony. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the dark. "What's wrong?"

Why was so easy to talk to Valentina? Maybe because Sherlock knew that she wouldn't look for hidden meaning on every word he said and because she didn't bothered to complicate her life with those stupid little things called feelings.

"I believe that man was paid to hurt Molly. Someone planned to hurt Watson, Mr. Hudson, Molly and you, all because you were related to me." Sherlock explained his conclusions out loud as he ran his hands through his face.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" Valentina repeated, encouraging him to continue.

"It's a rather simple plan, don't you think? It seems unlikely to me that someone hated me so much to set this whole thing up just to see me suffer, you know?" Then he grinned and added, "I'm not that important."

"Some men just want to see the world burn to ashes." Valentina agreed, looking at the stars already rising into the dark night.

"Michael Lokheart is twenty six, he goes to the gym twice a week and he is allergic to walnuts. He is rather an inferior mind." Sherlock didn't felt any repulsion or anger from the man he had beaten up to death almost a few minutes ago. Every trail of those intense feelings had softened and vanished as quickly as they aroused inside of him "He cannot be the man planning …this."

"Whatever this is..." Valentina smiled

"…exactly. The one who planned this is the same person who paid Michael enough to dress designers clothes, something that he could hardly afford with his graphic designer' job." Sherlock didn't bother to explain who he had obtained those conclusions because he guessed Valentina wouldn't need to know.

Another good thing in her.

"It's weird that he included me. I mean, I just met you and we are not that close." She avoided the intense gaze of his blue eyes. After all, she was right. Sherlock didn't have any rational reason to be close to her. He decided to do so, even against his prejudices about friendship. Valentina seemed to read his mind and she added, "Well at least no one knows we are that close. It seemed to me like I was just …convenient."Valentina tried to contribute to Sherlock's observations but he already had noticed that detail and he was also puzzled by it. Still, he appreciated her effort. It was like she was saying _"There's a bigger plan. Got it. Let's get the bad guys together"_

Then there was a silence that neither of them bothered to break.

"That girl is weird." Valentina finally spoke. Then she discretely pointed at Molly. It was just then when Sherlock noticed that Santiago, Molly and even john were observing them thought the window.

"She's stupid." Sherlock frowned as he said so. His brain knew that Molly was a brilliant pathologist and a rather smart person, but his heart was filled with resent and feelings that complicated things for his (always) rational mind.

"She's in love. Love makes the brightest woman taste a bit of foolishness." Valentina threw her head back and laughted softly and Sherlock appreciated just how beautiful she was. She would be capable to conquer any man she desired…excepting himself. He didn't saw her on _that_ way. "That's what my mom used to say." Valentina's smile soon vanished and it was replaced for a worried frown. "I've never been in love. I don't know if I can feel…"

"You can." Sherlock interrupted her.

Could they feel love? He didn't know. Maybe he just wanted to make Val feel better. Maybe it had to do with the strange mixture of feelings inside him since his argument with Molly. After picturing again Molly's face filled with pure admiration for him the day he decided to fake his dead, he added, fully convinced, "I know that you can."

"She would like to hear that." Valentina took another look to Molly. Who was frowning and talking furiously with both men on the flat.

"Yeah, because she's too stupid to know better." That part was true. If an animal was hurt by something, it learned to stay away from that something; pure survival instinct. Well, for Molly, he was that _something._

_She needs to learn to stay away from me before she gets hurt again…_

"Sherlock, my mom." Valentina interrupted Sherlock's thinking.

"Already fix it. Trust m…" he started, but the girl nodded and approached quickly to kiss his cheek.

"I do. Night, Sherlock." She good-bye softly before walking away.

"Good night." He whispered back, following her path with his sight until his eyes crossed with Molly's. She looked hurt. Again.

Why didn't these bloody feelings inside him go away?

"What do you think they are talking about?"Molly asked with a tired voice. She had finally come inside and she joined the two men who were contemplating Sherlock and Valentina talking outside.

"My guess is that they are competing to recite more digits of the pi number…" Santiago mocked with a grin and Molly felt a little better realizing she was not the only one suffering. She identified that spark of anger and jealously in his eyes because she felt it inside her too.

"I just don't get who they ended up together." John was intrigued, but when he felt the staring of his other two friends, he corrected nervously. "I mean, they are pretty close, right?"

"No." both Molly and Santiago answered at the same time, which made the first blush furiously and the second smile sadly.

"They are not together." Molly stated sadly and not fully convinced. "Right?"

"I really don´t know…" John started but just then Valentina kissed Sherlock cheek and Molly's face turned bright red.

"THEY ARE NOT TOGETHER!" Molly screamed and then dramatically went to her bedroom and slammed her door.

Another awkward silence followed. It was only broken when Sherlock entered the room and stated "We're staying overnight. I'm not leaving Molly here with that." And he pointed at Michael, who was starting to react.

Santiago sighted and he left the room without saying anything, recollecting the luggage and bringing it in. while he was busy with that task, John decided to push his friend a bit.

"Sherlock, I don't want to tell you what to do. I think you're big enough for that. Although, let me state clearly that I think Valentina is too young for you and…"

"Is not like that. Not at all." Sherlock stated solemnly, but did blush a little.

"Then what is that all about?" John asked carefully. "What's going on between you?"

"Honestly?" Sherlock seemed all the sudden very tired and he sight as he confessed. "I don't know."

The room was nice. It wasn't the image that you'd picture of a mental asylum. The room was ell illuminated and painted with a light peach color palette. The smell of roses and the sound of classic music surrounded the environment, making even more pleasant and cozy.

Mrs. Hudson found herself actually laughing as she watched her soap opera, sitting in the couch with a bowl filled with pop corn on her legs. Sitting next to her was another woman, who played with a strand of fabric on her hands. She tied nots all over the stand, un do them and then start all over again. She had been doing that for days.

Mrs. Hudson had gown closer to the woman. When they brought her in, almost a week ago, Mrs. Hudson was terrified. She tried to be brave and kept some sense of dignity as she was conducted to her room. The room was actually nice, but she had been still scared.

Then she found a rose on her bed and a note:

"_Mr. Hudson,_

_I'm afraid this inconvenience is related to my acquaintance to you. I apologize deeply. I could call Mycroft and ask him to take you out of the hospital, but I'm afraid that I won't. In fact, I will push all the boundaries of your generosity by asking you to stay there and watch after one important guest that will be sharing your bedroom. She's the mother of a very close friend and she's very sick. _

_I will make sure that if, indeed, you do decide to stay, you both receive the best of the treatments and cares. If you decide not to, call the number on the back of the note and Mycroft will pick you up immediately. _

_Love,_

_SH"_

Mrs. Hudson felt a rush of excitement and happiness after reading the note. She didn't question Sherlock's come back from the dead, and she just accepted it naturally. More than that, she was so happy to know he was alive, that she decided to stay.

That same night they had brought in the other woman.

She was very beautiful, but she seemed quite medicated and dizzy. She mumbled things on Spanish, but Mrs. Hudson understood very little of it. She had started to regret when the woman gave her a note that said:

"_Thank you for staying. I will pick you up soon._

_SH."_

After that, she had decided to enjoy her paid vacations…

Now both women were sitting on the couch watching TV. Every now and then the strange woman find a particularly beautiful knot and extended her hand to show it to Mrs. Hudson, who approved with a nod. "Very pretty, dear."

Then the woman would smile shyly and Mrs. Hudson would continue to watch the TV.

John meditated as he watched the hostage. He had insisted to take the first watch, even though he felt his eyelids getting heavier every time he blinked. He just needed time to process things. Sherlock was alive. At the beginning he had been rather furious to find out he had been fooled, but then he decided just to be happy about it. After all, a small part of him didn't accepted his dead.

There was another thing that bothered John. During all this time he had assumed Molly wouldn't visit him because he reminded her of Sherlock. Now that he knew the truth he felt extremely guilty. Not as much as Sherlock, of course. John had detected a spark of resent on Sherlock's eyes, but he couldn't figure out more. Maybe Sherlock cared more about the pathologist that he would admit.

"Interesting…" his mind played with the idea, thrilled with the fact that there was at least one thing in this world that the famous Sherlock Holmes couldn't figure out.

He took another look at the prisoner. Mike seemed to be asleep. He didn't looked any dangerous, so John relaxed.

He didn't heard the door of the flat opening.

Instead, he ran his hands through his hair and yawned. He wondered about Mary. He hadn´t stopped thinking about her for a second. What she would think of him, what she would look like, what she would say, what she would smell…

Smell…

When he was in prison, Sherlock's hallucination had ask him about the smell of the boy in the shop.

John didn´t found any connection then, but now he did.

"He smelled like wax." John concluded out loud. Then his mind found another hidden connection, this one more powerful and attuning. He stood up, suddenly victorious as he said "He was…"

And then his world went black.


	7. Night To Remember

**Okay, so here it is! I'm sorry if it's a bit short but to make it up, I promise the end of this chapter and the whole next chapter is filled with Molly & Sherlock fluff! Enjoy **

"John!" an alarmed masculine voice woke up the doctor from his dizziness. Slowly, the piercing blue eyes of Sherlock materialized through the clouds of his mind. "John, can you hear me?"

"She..Sherlock?" John mumbled as he started coming around. As his vision cleared he discovered other alarmed faces staring at him.

"He has no apparent brain damage, but his general state of confusion agrees with my diagnostic of a light contusion." Sherlock spoke to a recorder as he inspectioned the body of his friend. Desperate by his behavior, Molly pulled him apart.

"I am the doctor, Sherlock! For God's sake, let me do my job!" she yelled at him and Sherlock put the recorder away. He seemed rather embarrassed. Still angry, Molly inspectioned John and concluded with a defeat sight "No severe trauma. He just has a light contusion." Sherlock tried to his triumph grin, but Molly caught it and rolled her eyes.

"What happened?" John asked, still confused.

"Well someone knocked you out, took the prisoner and left." Santiago explained as he devoured a sandwich. Valentina was seating next to him on the couch, with her wavy hair now pulled up in a pony tail. Santiago approached the sandwich to her face and she jumped back with a disgusted face as he ginned amused. "Oh, yeah and he left a love letter to Mr. Detective."

"A letter?" John asked Sherlock, who instinctively avoided his look. "What does it say?"

"Well, John I was about to read it, but then I found you unconscious on the floor and decided to direct my attention to that first." Sherlock looked rather proud of himself, like if he expected some kind of compliment for caring for his friend.

"It says…"Molly had already taken the envelop and started reading it out loud as she paced around the room.

"_Well played Mr. Sherlock! I didn't realize we would play in teams, though. Given the fact that you have assembled a remarkable group of team members, I decided to do so as well (Michael wouldn't be my first choice, but as the bruises on Dr. Hooper's face prove, he has done an acceptable work.)"_

Molly didn't blinked and continued reading on a neutral tone. On the other side, Sherlock clenched his fist and muttered something about _"the perfect places to hid Michel's body"_

"Now, let's move on to the next stage of the game. See, I have decided you give your friend a period of grace of 48 hours. When that period finishes, I'll shoot one each hour."

"We have already wasted one hour waiting for him to wake up!" Valentina complained annoyed, but Molly waved her off and continued.

"Unless, you want to see your fiend's die, you will surrender yourself to me on the following address. Oh and by the way, could you…" Molly trailed off as she read the last words of the letter, suddenly blushing and looking ashamed.

Valentina snapped the letter off her hands and continued the reading. "…bring the purple shirt that Molly mentions on her diary? According to her it makes your eyes look like two bright stars shining in the night's sky and …" Valentina smirked as Molly fixed her eyes on the floor and Sherlock looked at her curiously. "…also makes your abs look dreamy."

"My abs?" Sherlock questioned, smiling lightly but also blushing.

"Oh, shut up!" Molly muttered, his face turning even a brighter shade of red.

"Well, that was cryptic, confusing and disturbing. What a great combo!" Santiago exclaimed angrily.

"On the contrary, cave man…" Sherlock started, but Santiago quickly jumped off the couch and protested.

"How longs are you going to keep referring me as cave man, smart ass?" he muttered, ready to fight.

"Until you keep behaving like one." Sherlock responded calmly and then pointed at the crumbles on the sofa. "You know, there are plates on the kitchen."

Santiago brushed the crumbles off quickly, ashamed of his actions. Sherlock continued his monologue, "On the contrary, the letter has show us that we are not dealing with an anarchist or a sociopath but with an organized criminal. " Sherlock's eyes sparkled with amusement as he explained his theory. "There must be a hidden motive of why he wants to meet, but we will have to figure that out on our way."

"On our way, where exactly?" John asked, irritated by the lack of information. "There is something else." John stated suddenly remembering last night discovery." The kid who sold me the chocolates on the store was wearing a latex mask and a disguise. That's why he smelled like plastic and the numbers on his tag were fucked up."

_Interesting, why won't he show his face? Would John recognize him? It's someone we already know…_

"Well, that depends. " Sherlock rolled his eyes as he had just stated something extremely obvious.

"Santiago and I will be searching in the library for any connections." Valentina nodded silently as she exited the flat. Santiago had no remedy but to follow her, still clueless about their destiny.

"Connections? Connections to what?" finally John exploded, dropping the ice bag Molly had given his to hold against his head, causing the small frozen cubes to scatter around the wooden floor.

"Connections between Michael and our mystery player. I bet Michael didn't brag much about his job, right Molly?" Sherlock looked at Molly but before waiting for her to nod, he continued. "That's because he didn't had any. Who would hire a drunk and abusive looser? But he wears clothes from famous brands and he had enough cash on his wallet to survive on a comfortable style of living. He was used to this way of living, which would imply that whoever why hired him has been working with him for a long time. Maeby a childhood friend…"

"How will we find out where he lives?" John questioned, already putting on his coat and ready to leave.

"Well, according to his wallet, we already know. Molly and I will be there shortly." Sherlock pointed out as he took his coat as well, ignoring the shocked looks of both of his friends.

"Why are you taking Molly with you?" the real question John wanted to ask was "why aren't you taking me instead, but he refrained himself from asking.

"Molly is just as capable as you John, not that you were insinuating differently, right?" then he felt into an awkward silence and uncomfortably confessed. "I also thought you would like to visit Mary at the hospital…" Sherlock was clearly not used to making favors and John was also surprised. "While you're there you might also want to inform Lestrade about our case. I been informed that he has stupidly decided to guard your fiancé 24/7 until further notice."

"Oh, yeah…thank you, I guess." John mumbled.

Both friends looked at each other and for a minute, it was clear that that weird and unexplainable link of friendship that once brought them together was still intact after all this time. It was beautiful moment, but Sherlock didn't had any experience on beautiful moments, so he disrupted the connection abruptly walking to the door. "Shall we, Molly?"

Santiago looked bored as he piled up books of registries of birth next to the computer where Valentina typed furiously. She looked cute, he thought, and then he refrained himself from touching the soft piece of hair that had fallen out if her ponytail.

"So…" he tried to start a conversation casually."How does that work?"

"Mmmm…" she muttered, trying to find the right words. "Have you ever used face book?"

"Yeah. When I was younger." Santiago avoided saying "_when I still lived at home." _But Valentina still guessed that and softened her expression when he turned to see him.

"Well, I created improved version of FB's tagging pictures systems. You see first we will search for all the persons that Mr. Scumbag has ever been related to. Then I'll go through all the pictures and memorize them. Is just about eliminating the right people." She added when he saw the amusement on his face. "I'll eliminate all his family from the list of suspects. Then all his close friends and do on and so on. Eventually there will be people remaining who have no reason to be related with that jerk but somehow they are. We will go though that list and search for they information. I calculate there will be enough information to reveal the Player's identity in…about five hours or so."

"And you will memorize…"

"About three million faces and their connections to each other." Valentina smirked, clearly showing off. "Go get a coffee or a doze of coke."

Santiago felt insulted by the reminder of his addiction so he bitterly corrected her. "I'm no longer using. I stop doing drugs even if your loved Sherlock is paying because you are fucking difficult to protect, you know that?" Santiago turned away after he noticed Valentina had ignored him completely

After six hour of working exhaustively, even a genius like Valentina needed a break. She ran her hand trough her hair as she tried to rest her eyes from the glow of the screen of her laptop. She also stretched her legs and a acute pain flinch confirmed that she had been seating too long.

Despite that, the search was advancing.

She had already classified over a million faces.

None of them, thought, were suspicious.

Valentina couldn't help to feel a bit frustrated, but she wasn't sure if it had to do something with the fact that Santiago hadn't stopped by since she insinuated he was a drug addict.

She regretted it as soon as she said it, but she was too embarrassed to apologize, so she pretended to be caught up on her work. Then he had left her. And now she felt like a complete jerk.

How was she supposed to know he would be so "sensitive" about the issue? Was she supposed to censor her thoughts?

"How do you do it Sherlock?" she questioned inside her head.

Sherlock had been an angel to her. Maybe there she had had a slight crush on him ( omg, she sounded like such a pathetic teenager!) but after she saw the way he looked at the pathologist, she understood that Sherlock a great weakness: he had allowed himself to fall in love.

Apparently, he hadn't notice yet.

At first Valentina thought she shouldn't do anything and just let things flow. But now she saw it clearly. It was hard for people like she or Sherlock to find someone that could put up with their extravagances and socially unaccepted behaviors. Despite that there were people like Santiago and Molly who masoquistically tried to be with them anyway. It was only fair to give them a chance right?

So Valentina had decided it was okay for Sherlock to be with Molly.

Now she had to convince herself that even thought it was right for them, it wouldn't be right for her.

She would just hurt Santiago.

Like apparently, she just did.

MATCH NOT FOUND

The glowing red letters of the computer caught her attention and snapped her out of reality. There was an unrecognized face on the database. She opened the file and her mouth formed an "o" at the surprise.

She could see the face. It was a man, almost forty with a beard and piercing green eyes.

But that's it.

She couldn't memorize, analyze or distinguish any feature on him. She had always been able to do so with every face she had met on her life (approximately over a million, she calculated) except with one.

Her own.

It was like seeing the face through a blurry glass and she couldn't do anything to stop it. On almost two decades of life, Valentina had never been able to recognize her face on the mirror or on any photography. She knew what he face looked like; it was jkust that her brain couldn't process that information. Valentina had never confessed that weakness to anyone, but the same thing happened with the photo of the strange man.

"Shit! He looks just like you!" Santiago muttered just inches away from her ear, causing her to startle and scream in terror.

It had been a long day. Molly couldn't wait to get home and get some sleep but it didn't seem that was happening any time soon. It was almost midnight and the cab kept driving around. About six hour ago, Molly had stopped asking Sherlock for explanations when she realized she wasn't getting any. Now she just stared through the window, hoping that they would arrive to their mystery location some time soon.

"We are here." Sherlock read her mind and ordered the driver to stop. The man, who had gently extended his working schedule in exchange of a outrageous tip.

They exited the car and Molly was surprised to see they had parked outside a luxurious hotel. She looked at Sherlock and for her surprise he was looking at her with an amused grin. "Is this were we are supposed to meet him?"

"What? No!" Sherlock responded offended as the car drove away and he gently conducted Molly to the entrance. "Your constant frustration sights were making me go nuts, so I decided we both need a break."

Molly took some time to process Sherlock's words because she was distracted by the fact that his hand had positioned just above her shoulders as he guided her. Despite that unusual gesture, Molly wasn't deceived by the gentleness and she still remembered the mean words he had screamed at her just 24 hours ago. Why was he acting all softy and lovely on her now?

"I couldn't agree more." She stated coldly as she walked a little faster to put some distance between them, which of course took all her power of will to do. Sherlock frowned in confusion, but he still tried to keep the appearances and kindly asked the receptionist for two rooms. He pays with a black card and Molly guessed that her night of luxury was going to be sponsored by Mycroft.

She followed Sherlock into the elevator and later, to their rooms. When it was time to separate she just nodded and closed her door straight after she went in, which gave Sherlock no time to speak.

Molly observed the room. Everything looked extremely expensive and it probably was. She didn't felt to flattered by that. In fact it kind of bothered Sherlock had taken the time to find such a place because now she felt like she own him something. Molly wished to end this and move on. She wished Sherlock disappeared again, so she could stop feeling such an idiot every time she spoke. Finally she collapsed into her bed without changing her clothes.

She wasn't the only one who felt bad. Just a few meters apart, Sherlock paced uneasy through the room. He didn't understood Molly's behavior. After their little fight, Sherlock had time to reconsider his actions. He had reached the following conclusions.

-It was his fault that Molly got hurt

-He didn't wanted to see Molly suffer again

So, he HAD to get away from her and so he would do after solving this "case"

Before he did so, however, he wanted to apologize to molly. He had been nice to her, he had got her a really nice place and even if he did all that, Molly refuse to forgive him.

It wasn't her fault, thought. A night of luxury would certainly not erase the mistreats and tortures she had to bear for a year. Why did have she put up with such suffering was an enigma that tortured Sherlock's brilliant mind. Just the mental image (and his brain was certainly capable to produce very, very vivid scenarios) of little and sweet Molly being hit make him feel nauseous.

Why did he felt that way also puzzled him.

For once, he was clueless and he didn't like it at all.

He slammed his fist against the wall, surprised by his own rage and power. With adrenaline still running though his body, his gaze settled on the mini bar on the corner.

"_Why not?"_ he wondered.


	8. Your Heart Is Mine

**Short, but absolutely sweet. Was it worth the waiting? **

The heavy slams of someone hitting the door woke Molly up. Fearfully, she stood up and went to check the door. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Sherlock leaning on the door. Even when her mind screamed her not to let him in, her body was already unlocking the door. Sherlock stumbled in, and embraced molly clumsily.

He smelled like a bar.

"Sherlock?" Molly whispered against his neck and unfortunately she couldn't help the goose bumps that formed on her arms at the warm contact oh his skin with hers.

"Moll…Molly" Sherlock giggled….he giggled! And then pronounced her name again, enunciating every world slowly, because apparently he had decided the letter "o" was extremely funny to pronounce.

"Sherlock, er...ehem…are you drunk?" molly already knew the answer to that question was yes but she asked anyway because a part of her couldn't believe he had lost his precious self-control.

"Yes Moooooooollyyyy. I believe I'm quite intoxicated." Sherlock then busted out laughing and Molly couldn't help to think that that would probably the most surrealist moment of her life.

But then she had to stop thinking because Sherlock suddenly turned serious and his blue eyes pierced though her. With his right hand, he grabbed her waist confidently and pulled her closer to him. Molly gasped when her breast softly pressed his chest. Sherlock didn't seem to notice because he was to busy analyzing her face. He cupped her cheek and looked at her with such intensity, she felt naked.

His voice turned into a soft whisper and Molly thought she had never imagined his voice could sound so seductive.

"Why Molly?" he whispered and his warm breath brushed Molly's lips causing her to open them slightly. "Why, sweet, sweet Molly? Why would you let anyone hurt you?" his voice now sounded angelical and there was some sadness on it.

Molly couldn't hold down the secret any longer. Maybe it was the warmness of his breath stroking her lips, the touch of his hand caressing her waist or the intensity on his blue eyes. She needed to confess the truth.

"Michael came in and showed me some documents." She talked with a soft voice just because that felt right on that moment. Usually shy, Molly looked straight into Sherlock's eyes. "Photos of you in other countries, payment receives. They would prove that you were still alive and that would make the police go after you again."

Sherlock's eyes flinched in pain. He had just heard the confirmation of his worst fear, this had been his fault.

"He said he would destroy the documents if I did…"Molly felt her knees weaken, but Sherlock's hand hold her together. "…things"

Sherlock's hands left molly's waist and she immediately missed his touch. "I'm sorry Molly."

He turned away and started heading to the door. "I promise you won't see me again."

Molly took some time to process his words but when she did, she reacted immediately by grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "No! I don't want you to leave!" she cried out.

Sherlock looked at her and he was the image of defeat. He looked older, tired and his eyes were missing that sparkle she just loved.

"Then, what you want me to do? Kill myself? Turn me in? You name, and I'll do it." Sherlock's determination scared Molly to dead.

"No! No! Sherlock, I don't want to punish you!" Molly cried out as she felt the tears strolling down her face and she didn't resist the urge to caress his face repeatedly.

He took her hand delicately and hesitating for just a second, he pulled close to her mouth and kissed it. "Molly it's okay. Of course you want to punish me, is a natural reaction. You are just too kind to say it out loud."

Trying to overcome the warm feeling running through her body, she tried to think straight. She knew just then that if Sherlock left the room that night his brilliant and stubborn mind would convince himself of inflicting some kind of torturous and sophisticated punishment on himself ( she feared suicide would be too conventional for him)

She had to make him stay.

Molly had never been a brave person. She had never taken the first steps on anything, but that night some internal fire, something that she had been feeding every sleepless night she spend after a beating, every second away from Sherlock; awoken inside her and she felt suddenly brave.

"No. Sherlock. No. Do you understand?" even when Molly tried to sound convincing, Sherlock opened his mouth to debate her with some clever argument about being a martyr, but she didn't gave him a chance to say it out loud.

Molly kissed Sherlock.

At the beginning his lips remained motionless. They were as soft as she had imagined and tasted just as sweet as she had assumed. Despite that, she knew a simple chaste kiss wouldn't be enough to convince Sherlock to stay.

So, she pressed her body against him and tangled her fingers with his locks. He responded instinctively opening his mouth a bit to gasp, but she took advantage of the moment and gently forced her tongue on his mouth.

Maybe it was the alcohol on his body or the feeling of closeness with molly's body, but Sherlock started feeling something warm creeping on to his body. For once in his life, his rational side was completely numb and a single thought filled his mind.

He wanted more.

When Molly's tongue started exploring his mouth passionately, he responded. His right hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her even closer, so his tongue could go deeper on her mouth. She tasted like strawberries. The other hand explored her back cautiously but soon it was going lower, without him being able to stop it.

Molly's hands began moving as well, exploring his neck and then shyly unbuttoning his shirt. Sherlock felt his body tensing and an electrical current went through his body when her hands opened his shirt and rested on his chest. He broke the kiss to look at her for a few seconds.

She looked gorgeous. Her hair was loose around her body, her cheeks were flushing reds and her lips had gotten red and swallow. He smirked. He always had an effect on her, but this time it showed and he kind of liked it. She bit her lip and even the most ignorant man on body language could interpret the signs she was sending to him.

She wanted him.

Molly's hand was resting just above his heart and he caressed her hand as he closed his eyes and softly whispered. "I sometimes forget I have one."

The beating of his heart increased slightly when Molly slipped her free hand around his waist and pulled her body on a close embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You can't hid it anymore, Sherlock." She pronounced the words against his skin and he opened his eyes, realizing in fact, something had changed inside him that night.

"Why not?" he asked with a voice that was closer to a growl.

"Because it belongs to me." Molly confessed.

Sherlock's brain wanted to rebate that ilogical argument with a thousand anatomic facts that demonstrated that in fact, his heart belonged to himself. But then some small part of him, a part that he didn't often listen told him that was not true; a part of him did belong to Molly Hooper.

"Molly….we have to stop." Sherlock choose his words carefully but a warm feeling invaded him when he felt Molly's hands clenching tighter to his body. He was afraid of losing her, too.

"Why?" even if he couldn't see her face, he knew she was crying.

He sighted and delicately cupped Molly's face and forced her to look at him. "Because I'm drunk. I don't want this to be one night thing. Molly…I want to remember this in the morning."

And then Molly smiled with the most beautiful smile Sherlock had ever seen. "Okay." She nodded as she wiped off the tears. "But you're staying anyway."

The morning light filtrated through the window and reflected on Molly's hair. She had fallen asleep on his arms last night and he had contemplated her until he felt asleep too. Now he was running his hands through her hair and watching her slow breathing.

He didn't want to analyze his feelings. Maybe it had something to do with the horrible headache he was having at the time.

Maybe…

The moment was perfect.

And as all perfect moments, it had to be ruined by the buzzing of a cell phone.

Sherlock answered the phone as quickly as he could, but he couldn't help to woke Molly up. She helped him looking, handed his phone and then lie back on his chest again.

He smiled and then answered. "Yes?"

"Sherlock? Where are you, man? Is past eleven and we don't have much time." Sherlock couldn't help to curse silently for forgetting the case he was pursuing just for a moment of happiness, but Santiago continued talking. "I'll come and get you." The line went silent for a few moments. "And Sherlock?"

"Yes?" Sherlock asked again, still feeling a bit numb.

"I think I broke Valentina." The tone of alarm in Santiago's voice was enough to bring Sherlcok back to reality.


	9. Chapter 9

**So, I wanted to sort out kind of all the emotional drama going on and focuss a bit more in the case. However, this is a love story after all, so you should expect a lot of fluff right by the end of it Love u and hope you enjoy!**

The heavy slams of someone hitting the door woke Molly up. Fearfully, she stood up and went to check the door. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Sherlock leaning on the door. Even when her mind screamed her not to let him in, her body was already unlocking the door. Sherlock stumbled in, and embraced molly clumsily.

He smelled like a bar.

"Sherlock?" Molly whispered against his neck and unfortunately she couldn't help the goose bumps that formed on her arms at the warm contact oh his skin with hers.

"Moll…Molly" Sherlock giggled….he giggled! And then pronounced her name again, enunciating every world slowly, because apparently he had decided the letter "o" was extremely funny to pronounce.

"Sherlock, er...ehem…are you drunk?" molly already knew the answer to that question was yes but she asked anyway because a part of her couldn't believe he had lost his precious self-control.

"Yes Moooooooollyyyy. I believe I'm quite intoxicated." Sherlock then busted out laughing and Molly couldn't help to think that that would probably the most surrealist moment of her life.

But then she had to stop thinking because Sherlock suddenly turned serious and his blue eyes pierced though her. With his right hand, he grabbed her waist confidently and pulled her closer to him. Molly gasped when her breast softly pressed his chest. Sherlock didn't seem to notice because he was to busy analyzing her face. He cupped her cheek and looked at her with such intensity, she felt naked.

His voice turned into a soft whisper and Molly thought she had never imagined his voice could sound so seductive.

"Why Molly?" he whispered and his warm breath brushed Molly's lips causing her to open them slightly. "Why, sweet, sweet Molly? Why would you let anyone hurt you?" his voice now sounded angelical and there was some sadness on it.

Molly couldn't hold down the secret any longer. Maybe it was the warmness of his breath stroking her lips, the touch of his hand caressing her waist or the intensity on his blue eyes. She needed to confess the truth.

"Michael came in and showed me some documents." She talked with a soft voice just because that felt right on that moment. Usually shy, Molly looked straight into Sherlock's eyes. "Photos of you in other countries, payment receives. They would prove that you were still alive and that would make the police go after you again."

Sherlock's eyes flinched in pain. He had just heard the confirmation of his worst fear, this had been his fault.

"He said he would destroy the documents if I did…"Molly felt her knees weaken, but Sherlock's hand hold her together. "…things"

Sherlock's hands left molly's waist and she immediately missed his touch. "I'm sorry Molly."

He turned away and started heading to the door. "I promise you won't see me again."

Molly took some time to process his words but when she did, she reacted immediately by grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "No! I don't want you to leave!" she cried out.

Sherlock looked at her and he was the image of defeat. He looked older, tired and his eyes were missing that sparkle she just loved.

"Then, what you want me to do? Kill myself? Turn me in? You name, and I'll do it." Sherlock's determination scared Molly to dead.

"No! No! Sherlock, I don't want to punish you!" Molly cried out as she felt the tears strolling down her face and she didn't resist the urge to caress his face repeatedly.

He took her hand delicately and hesitating for just a second, he pulled close to her mouth and kissed it. "Molly it's okay. Of course you want to punish me, is a natural reaction. You are just too kind to say it out loud."

Trying to overcome the warm feeling running through her body, she tried to think straight. She knew just then that if Sherlock left the room that night his brilliant and stubborn mind would convince himself of inflicting some kind of torturous and sophisticated punishment on himself ( she feared suicide would be too conventional for him)

She had to make him stay.

Molly had never been a brave person. She had never taken the first steps on anything, but that night some internal fire, something that she had been feeding every sleepless night she spend after a beating, every second away from Sherlock; awoken inside her and she felt suddenly brave.

"No. Sherlock. No. Do you understand?" even when Molly tried to sound convincing, Sherlock opened his mouth to debate her with some clever argument about being a martyr, but she didn't gave him a chance to say it out loud.

Molly kissed Sherlock.

At the beginning his lips remained motionless. They were as soft as she had imagined and tasted just as sweet as she had assumed. Despite that, she knew a simple chaste kiss wouldn't be enough to convince Sherlock to stay.

So, she pressed her body against him and tangled her fingers with his locks. He responded instinctively opening his mouth a bit to gasp, but she took advantage of the moment and gently forced her tongue on his mouth.

Maybe it was the alcohol on his body or the feeling of closeness with molly's body, but Sherlock started feeling something warm creeping on to his body. For once in his life, his rational side was completely numb and a single thought filled his mind.

He wanted more.

When Molly's tongue started exploring his mouth passionately, he responded. His right hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her even closer, so his tongue could go deeper on her mouth. She tasted like strawberries. The other hand explored her back cautiously but soon it was going lower, without him being able to stop it.

Molly's hands began moving as well, exploring his neck and then shyly unbuttoning his shirt. Sherlock felt his body tensing and an electrical current went through his body when her hands opened his shirt and rested on his chest. He broke the kiss to look at her for a few seconds.

She looked gorgeous. Her hair was loose around her body, her cheeks were flushing reds and her lips had gotten red and swallow. He smirked. He always had an effect on her, but this time it showed and he kind of liked it. She bit her lip and even the most ignorant man on body language could interpret the signs she was sending to him.

She wanted him.

Molly's hand was resting just above his heart and he caressed her hand as he closed his eyes and softly whispered. "I sometimes forget I have one."

The beating of his heart increased slightly when Molly slipped her free hand around his waist and pulled her body on a close embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You can't hid it anymore, Sherlock." She pronounced the words against his skin and he opened his eyes, realizing in fact, something had changed inside him that night.

"Why not?" he asked with a voice that was closer to a growl.

"Because it belongs to me." Molly confessed.

Sherlock's brain wanted to rebate that ilogical argument with a thousand anatomic facts that demonstrated that in fact, his heart belonged to himself. But then some small part of him, a part that he didn't often listen told him that was not true; a part of him did belong to Molly Hooper.

"Molly….we have to stop." Sherlock choose his words carefully but a warm feeling invaded him when he felt Molly's hands clenching tighter to his body. He was afraid of losing her, too.

"Why?" even if he couldn't see her face, he knew she was crying.

He sighted and delicately cupped Molly's face and forced her to look at him. "Because I'm drunk. I don't want this to be one night thing. Molly…I want to remember this in the morning."

And then Molly smiled with the most beautiful smile Sherlock had ever seen. "Okay." She nodded as she wiped off the tears. "But you're staying anyway."

The morning light filtrated through the window and reflected on Molly's hair. She had fallen asleep on his arms last night and he had contemplated her until he felt asleep too. Now he was running his hands through her hair and watching her slow breathing.

He didn't want to analyze his feelings. Maybe it had something to do with the horrible headache he was having at the time.

Maybe…

The moment was perfect.

And as all perfect moments, it had to be ruined by the buzzing of a cell phone.

Sherlock answered the phone as quickly as he could, but he couldn't help to woke Molly up. She helped him looking, handed his phone and then lie back on his chest again.

He smiled and then answered. "Yes?"

"Sherlock?! Where are you, man? Is past eleven and we don't have much time." Sherlock couldn't help to curse silently for forgetting the case he was pursuing just for a moment of happiness, but Santiago continued talking. "I'll come and get you." The line went silent for a few moments. "And Sherlock?"

"Yes?" Sherlock asked again, still feeling a bit numb.

"I think I broke Valentina." The tone of alarm in Santiago's voice was enough to bring Sherlcok back to reality.

"How long has she been like this?" Sherlock asked, gently taking Valentina's pulse.

She was agitated and her eyes were fixed on an invisible point on the wall. Also, she looked like she was about to start crying.

"Boys, would you leave us alone?" Molly interrupted Santiago before he could answer. She had been observing Valentina since she arrived to the hotel room, just when she was coming out of the shower ( Molly suddenly felt the urge to look nice for Sherlock). Valentina seemed different.

When molly had first met her she was nothing but a threat to her; now she looked diminished, tired and very scared. Molly had forgotten how young she really was. When Santiago explained what they have discovered on the library, Molly understood.

Valentina was just a little girl that had never had given the chance to herself to act like a little girl; now she was scared and she needed to be protected and guided.

"We have to take her to an hospital." Sherlock's voice acquired a note of hysteria as he paced around the room "She could be in shock and then her heart…"

"No." Molly cut in, stopping him with a gesture. "I'm a doctor and I say there's no immediate danger for her. You have your name and a face, go look for that man. Take the boy and John and stop this monster. I'll take care of her."

Molly then proceeded to push the boys away from the room (literally). When Sherlock was outside, she gave him a last goodbye. "Take care and Sherlock….come back in one piece."

Sherlock just rolled his eyes before taking off, but Molly perceived he also nodded slightly.

"Now…let's have a girl talk." Molly started.

Valentina just stared at the wall and sat obediently.

"You don't have to fake, dear. Their gone now; you can stop faking." Molly had never been maternal, but she felt the urge to protect the young girl. Maybe was that she recognized the same look she had on her eyes like the look Molly had adopted when her father got sick. "I know what is like to feel like you can'0t help the people you love."

"I don't. I always know what to do." Valentina cut Molly rudely as she hugged her knees.

"So do the right thing and tell me who this man is." Molly tried to keep her voice as soft as she could, but Valentina was surprised anyway. She looked at Molly with intensity as she tried to figure if she could trust her

"I don't know." She finally stated firmly, but Molly pulled a chair close to hers and insisted.

"You choose to bloke the knowledge, but is there; somewhere." She analyzed Valentina's behavior and soon discovered she was right. "He looks like you so he must be related…"

Valentina's eyes suddenly sparked with an idea "Up to 50% match on facial patters." She seemed…hurt. "He's my father. I assume."

"Good."Molly concluded, not sure what to say next. "What do you know about your father?"

"Not much. One nights stand with my mom before she got really sick. Abandon her before I was born. Never came back." Valentina talked without emotion, but she could fool Molly; it was quite obvious she was affected by the topic. "I can't see his face. I mean I see it, but I can't process it."

"Because is a way your brain protects you from yourself." Molly reasoned. She had never been a physiatrist, but she had read a bunch of books about human behavior since she met Sherlock "You have denied the existence of that man who abandoned you two. There's no need for that, Val. " "You're allowed to feel pain."

"No." the girl responded quickly. Then her eyes started watering.

"There's no need for you to be strong now." Molly said as she felt her own voice breaking

"My mom…" Valentina looked at Molly again and a tear escaped her eyes.

"She's sick and she needs help. You can't carry that burden on your own." Molly said as she approached the girl. Valentina finally cracked down and started sobbing uncontrollably.

"It's okay!" Molly hugged her awkwardly.

The two of them remained on the thigh embrace until the youngest one managed to control her emotions. Then they parted and Valentina smiled at Molly as she cleaned her nose with her sleeve and said, "You know, I've decided it's fine if you love him."

Molly's mouth formed a perfect "o" and then she blushed. A more rebellious part of her wanted to emphasize the fact that Sherlock was a grown man and that he didn't need any permission to engage in a relationship, but she quickly suppressed those feelings. "We should go and meet them when they go to the hospital for John."

Valentina nodded and they both gathered their things.

Twenty minutes earlier.

Santiago and Sherlock raced downstairs as they talked. Well, it was more like Santiago attacked the detective with questions and he resisted the urge to throw him downstairs.

"So, you and the pathologist? Are you sleeping together? Do you love her? What about Valentina? Does she knows? Do you…" the boy struggled to keep up with the man's pace.

"Another question! Do you value your life? Then shut.." Sherlock snapped angrily, but he missed a step and loose balance. He had to lean back on the wall to catch his breath. "What idiot would make reparations on the elevators at this bloody time of the day?" Sherlock regretted as he started descending again. He stopped a few steps down abruptly, causing Santiago to stumble against his back. "Yes. "

"Yes, what?!" Santiago lost his patience, but Sherlock didn't lost control. In fact he didn't even turned around to face him.

"Yes, I expect to be engaged on an emotional relationship with Dr. Hooper on a near future. Yes, I'm guessing Valenina was smart enough to deduct that as soon as she entered the room and yes, I have discovered that you're madly in love with Valentina and yes…" Sherlock took a deep breath and then hissed on a threatening tone. "I will tear you apart if you ever hurt her."

Santiago meditated the questions and then came up with a question that was deeper than it sounded. "Why?"

"Why, indeed!" Sherlock was completely intrigued by the question, but he manage to answer quickly, this time turning around to face the other man. "Well, I have, on the contrary of the common belief, a few friends. Those friends extend their comprehension to their best of their ability but they fail to understand me completely. Valentina does. She doesn't ask, she doesn't gets offended and the bst of all, she accepts it all." Sherlock couldn't hide a smile. "Any other stupid questions?"

"No, my doze of stupidity has run out for the day." Santiago responded sarcastically as he went ahead and passed Sherlock downstairs.

"Thank GOD!"

**Ten minutes ago.**

When they both reached the lobby, Santiago and Sherlock were panting and sweating. "There's…a…cab…there…" Santiago pointed out to the street as a wealthy dressed lady exited a cab.

"Run!" Sherlock ordered as he raced to the street. Once arriving to the cab, he accidentally hit the lady, causing her to lose stability and drop her purse. The craziest things dropped from her purse and they remained scattered around the floor. A silver pen, a syringe and about a dozen papers fly away with the impact. Sherlock tried his best to collect them all and threw them rudely at the woman before jumping into the car and ordering the driver to start moving. Santiago jumped into the next seat and closed the door just before the car started moving.

It was the last cab of the hotel.

However, another vehicle soon took its place. The driver was a handsome man with piercing green eyes. He spotted the lady that had previously exited the cab and nodded at her.

Sherlock Holmes had been fooled, twice.


	10. Unfortunate Coincidence

"Lestrade?" John was surprised when he bumped into the Detective just outside of the hospital room where Mary was resting. "What are you doing here?"

John had broken into the hospital by one of the fire exits and even though he had tried to cover his face as much as possible with a hoodie, he did catch some suspicious looks on his way through the hospital. "I could as you the same thing, John!" Lestrade hissed at him as he pulled the man to a corner to have some privacy. "Do you know every cop in the city is looking for you?"

"That's a bit exaggerate don't you think..?" John tried to relax the mood, but he was anxious to see Mary.

"Well, Sherlock had many enemies on the Force and now you do too." Lestrade warned him. Then they interrupted the conversation because the nurse outside the room glanced at them. "John, I been looking after her just fine. You should go before her family comes for visit." He whispered.

"Why have you been looking after her?"

"Well because I don't think that you could possibly hurt anyone; especially someone you love." Lestrade explained and John actually felt moved by the trust that he gave him. "so, however did poisoned her might come back to finish the job, right?"

John wanted to thank Lestrade somehow, but he kind of choke on the words and all he did was nod awkwardly. "I have to see her. I need to know."

He sounded so determined that the detective could just nod and sight. "You got five minutes."

And just as John thanked and entered the room, Lestrade's phone buzzed.

Mary was lying on the bed, sleeping so peacefully that John couldn't stop the nod forming on his troath. He approached carefully not to wake her up, unfortunately she was startled by his movements and she opened her eyes.

"John?" she said with a soft voice, blinking once or twice before setting her eyes on her fiancé.

John raced to the side of her bed, softly taking her hands and burring his face into the clean white sheets. "I'm so sorry Mary. I swear I would never do anything to harm you, I should…"

"Shhh, it's okay love." Mary lifted Johns head and smiled. "I know it wasn´t you the one who poisoned me."

"Really?" John asked and then, hugged her "I love you."

"I love you two, John." Mary said after giving her fiancé a soft kiss on the lips but then frowned. "We need to find out who did this, John."

"Okay, get ready for a long story." John began. Mary listened closely as he described how Sherlock had showed up, how they have been framed by a criminal and all the clues they had. John spoke for about ten minutes, but Mary didn't lost the interest or panicked. That was one thing John loved about her, her stability and the way she always remained calm.

"So what does he wants…?" Mary guessed, frowning deeply as she concentrated.

"Sherlock? Solve the case I guess." John answered shyly, but when she rolled her eyes he understood she meant the killer and not the detective. "I really have no clue."

"Well…" Mary smiled with the excitement of a five year old. "I think I do."

"For the love of God! Could you drive faster?! " Sherlock scolded the driver, who hit the accelerator on a curve obviously in revenge, sending Sherlock's body directly to the floor.

"_Joder!"_ Santiago cursed in Spanish as he tried his best not to fall. Then he recovered and kept typing on his cell phone. _"Hijo de puta…"_ he muttered.

"You're not on your bloody country! Talk in English!" Sherlock ordered, but instead of fighting back, Santiago handed him the phone.

"Looks like our man is on surgery. Your brother send me the records of the hospital and Victor Rendón entered the hospital an hour ago to get a bypass surgery. Guess which hospital?" Santiago lifted his eyebrow and Sherlock cursed.

"Same as Mary…"

"What the heck…?!" Lestrade had been watching the hall. He hoped to spot Mary's family before they entered the room so he could have a chance to warn John. Instead of Mary's parents thought, he spotted Sherlock and a teenage hooligan walking through the hall. "Sherlock?! Sherlock Holmes?!"

"Please Detective, keep your surprise spasms to a minimum, I wouldn't like to make a scene." Sherlock calmly recommended and the boy joining him smiled amused. "Now Greg, I assume you'd like to get internal affairs off your ass. If you are a good boy and you keep Mary's family and doctors away for half hour I'll give you half of the credit when I solve the case."

Overcoming his initial surprise, Lestrade argued, "Half? I'm risking my reputation for someone who is supposed to be dead."

"This case will restore both of our reputations." Sherlock tried to remain firm, but after understanding that the detective wouldn't back down, he offered, "You solved the main plot with a major help from a civilian."

"I solved the case with _**a little**_ help from a civilian." Lestrade corrected him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, gesturing him to leave the hospital. Lestrade laughed and retired to watch the entrance of the hospital with a triumph smile on his face.

"_Vamos, que no tenemos todo el día."_ Valentina muttered as molly paid for the cab.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any money on. Would you mind waiting for us? I swear I will pay …" molly started apologizing with obvious embarrassment ash she searched on her huge bag for some money.

The cab driver smiled. Molly froze. She thought that she had seen the man before, but after noticing he had brown plain eyes, she waved the idea off. "Don't worry ma'am. Be right here when you come out."

"Thank you!" Molly exclaimed as she turned around to leave, but the man grabbed his arm.

"You forgot your coat, lady." The driver hand her a light camel coat that Molly didn't remembered wearing. Sure, she had a coat like that, but she believed it was safely hanged up on her closet.

"Move!" Valentina pulled her arm into the building without giving molly the time to understand anything.

John was extremely interested on Mary's explanation; but she was interrupted by Sherlock breaking into the room, followed by a very exhausted Santiago. "No! This is exactly what he wants!" Mary exclaimed in frustration as she tried to stand up. She cried out in pain and John helped her to lie back again as the men look at her in confusion.

However, there was no time for explanations because Valentina and Molly busted into the room, knocking Sherlock down. Molly felt as well and for a few seconds the room became chaotic as people grumbled, struggled to get up, asked questions and apologized; the fact that both Santiago and Valentina were so distressed that they started talking in Spanish just contributed to the general confusion.

"Okay, everybody shut the fuck up!" Mary screamed out with authority as she breathed heavily because of the effort. John just stared at her slightly amused and aroused in consequence of her bringing out a new side of her personality. "You all need to go. He wants us to be reunited here…

"So I don't have to work twice…" a voice appeared from the entrance direction, followed by a gun. "Shall we do the introductions?"

"Well, you're my father and the asshole who messed these people's poor lives just for fun. I'm your daughter. Here, done." Valentina spoke with a rather soothing tone of voice to the man standing in front of her.

He didn't look frightening or intimidating. His bronzed skin gave him a younger appearance and his hair was elegantly combed back. He smiled with pearly white teeth and said, "Well, I didn't do it jut for the fun; but let's give Mary a chance to explain us, okay?"

Mary who had been covered quickly by his fiancé as soon as the weapon pointed at them, had to struggle to sit up. She looked determined and strong but still John feared for her. "Victor here is my assistant. Well, he was… I think you should look for another job."

"I don't need to." Victor laughed cruelly as he closed the door behind him, leaving as only exit a window that floated sixteen floors above the ground level.

"What does your girlfriend do for living, John?" Sherlock asked. Util then nobody had noticed how he had moved in front of Molly. Unconsciously, he tried to protect her.

John frowned, "We're engaged, Sherlock. She's my fiancée now, not just my girlfriend" Even with the situation going on, John hadn't missed that detail. After hearing Sherlock growling and muttered he explained, "She works on a layer buffet. She's second in charge. Her boss is an old relative, very fond of her. Right?"

Mary nodded and she was about to say something when the criminal interrupted, "So fond of her that when he got terribly sick, he changed his will to leave all his money to her instead to his son, the rightful heir. Want to guess who his son is?" Nobody talked, so Victor continued, "Exactly! To get my money I got to get through her!"

"I get it. You have to kill Mary." Sherlock spoke calmly.

"Sherlock!" John immediately protested, but his friend waved him off.

"I just don't get how I fit in all this!" Sherlock seemed rather irritated to discover that the case in fact didn't revolve around him.

"Well, here's where the plot thickens."Victor took a deep breath and then turned to his daughter, whose eyes had widened in realization. "I needed a fake will."

"October 23, 2011. A man came into my house and paid me to make a fake will with the name Victor Rendón. As I didn't know your last name, I didn't suspect anything. I keep a copy whenever I get an odd request like that." Both Valentina and Sherlock seemed to have understood the rest of the plan, but as no one else did, Victor proceeded with the explanation.

"I planned to kill you, but then you met him." He pointed at Sherlock with his gun and Molly gasped as she grabbed Sherlock's coat to pull him close to her. "So I figure I could blame him for your death and Mary's. I just had to attract him somehow. So yeah, Sherlock is kind of your fault they are in danger."

Sherlock grinned as his eyes sparkled with intelligence. "The lady on the cab was holding a needle witch I touched, leaving fingertips on it. I guess you will inject Mary with a bubble of air that will stop her heart."

"You couldn't handle the news of your secret love ergo John Watson, loving someone that wasn't you. You had a jealousy attack and you asked your physcotic and dependent pathologist to help you kill Mary…shoot John…and finally committed _real_ suicide." Victor stated with a confident tone and a sparkle of pure evil on his eyes.

"People will ask about my death." Valentina interrupted her father with a defiant tone.

"Well, yes. It's a bit odd that an innocent girl was trapped on the situation but you have done an excellent work erasing your names from every record existing. No one will know your name." Victor had obviously thought the plan through and it seemed impeccable.

"They will hear the shooting." John interrupted the monologue as his hand was firmly holding Mary's.

"Neh! Your friend Lestrade has done an awesome job clearing the floor so we could have this private meeting." Victor smiled.

"How about the boy?" Sherlock stepped in confidently as he looked at Santiago who had remained silent and next to Valentina.

"Oh, yes. Well, that was entirely your fault. I hadn't planned his death." Victor seemed rather amused by that detail and he suddenly turned to Valentina and Santiago. He pouted and then muttered, "What an ungrateful coincidence!"

There was a shot.

Every body closed their eyes, not sure who had been shot. Then Valentina's scream pierced through everyone's ears. A puddle of blood emerged from behind Mary's bed…

**Cliffhanger! I'm soooo sorry for this, but I want you to guess who got shot Also, I'm going to have a super dramatic and filled with sorrow chapter next as each of the character says goodbye to his/ her loved ones. What do you think?**


	11. Last words

Santiago felt the impact on his chest and when he looked down; he saw the large blood stain expanding through his polo shirt. "Shit!" he muttered and then turned to see Valentina who was pale and still in shock as she touched one of the drops of blood that had splattered on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but immediately Santiago collapsed and felt back.

"Say your prayers, loves." Victor simply recommended as he chose his next victim.

"John. This is it." Mary didn't sound frightened or dramatic. She simply stated a fact. John sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand between his hands before kissing it delicately.

"I wish I was as strong as you, dear." John whispered, feeling his voice cracking.

"I won't lie. I did want that fluffy enormous wedding that you promised." Mary's eyes are filled with tiny tears. "But we are here together. At the end, that's what really matters."

John wants to say something eloquent, something that sounds relevant and solemn, but the words escape his mind. Mary's right after all. They are there, together. There are no words for expressing how much does that means. Silence says it all.

John gives Sherlock a quiet look. He seems shocked. John gives him an encouraging nod and Sherlock responds with a grin. John thanks God that Sherlock is there as well. Sadly, he always had imagined they were going to die this way. Together, at the end of another great adventure.

He turns back to Mary and embraces her tightly. He kisses her temple and closes his eyes, waiting for the end. Mary's tears wet his shirt.

"No…no…no…" Valentina was in complete shock. She clumsily pressed her hand against Santiago's wound, but after hearing him squirming in pain, she took her hand away and brushed her hair again, leaving a trace of his blood on her face.

She had never been a delicate girl. Once, her mother attacked her with a knife on one of her hysteric attacks and she had to suture herself. She doesn't fear blood.

This time was different. She kneeled near Santiago and delicately took his head and arranged it to rest on her lap. He's pale now and his blue eyes were barely open. When he saw her, he smiled weakly.

"You've got a little bit of blood on your face." He joked as he tried to reach for her face. Instinctively, she guided his hand to her check and caresses it.

"You've got a little bit too on your shirt." Valentina tried to giggle, but the sound comes out a little bit hysterical and she regrets immediately.

"You'll be fine, baby doll. That man over there cares a lot about you." Santiago's face was now severe as he tries to point at Sherlock and Valentina felt the tears stinging her eyes. "He'll take care of you."

A tear escaped her eye and landed on his neck. Valentina was a little irritated with herself. After holding back the tears during seventeen years, she seems unable to stop crying today.

"I want you taking care of me." She confesses on a low voice, strangely kind and soft.

"I know." He flinched in pain and she sobbed. Santiago tried to stop a tear from her face. "Hey, I love you."

"You shouldn't love me. If you didn't, you wouldn't be hurt now." Valentina is now crying openly and small sobs shake her body. "I can't love you back, you know."

"You can. That's why you're crying, silly." Santiago smiled sincerely and Valentina suddenly realized she can't live without that smile

"I must be an allergic reaction. Allergy to latex is extremely common and if untreated it can cause severe…" she started explaining and Santiago chuckled a bit but stopped when it started hurting too much.

"Stop it!" He orders gently and then adds with a grin "Promise you'll eat pizza like a normal human being and that…." The grin is gone and now there is just pure pain plastered on his face. "…I don't feel so well."

"John!" Valentina calls for the doctor and he stand up to help but Victor unlocked the gun and pointed at him as he denied with his head and john got back to his place.

"Hey…it's going to be okay." Santiago tried to remain strong, but he's quickly loosing strength. "Come here." He pulled her head down and smiled when he felt the taste of her warm breath caressing the corners of his mouth. Valentina finished the movement and placed a soft kiss on his mouth.

"Sherlock." Molly called him with a whisper. Sherlock's eyes were fixed on the ground and his back turned to her. She spoke louder this time as she pulled the sleeve of his coat to make him turn around. "Sherlock!"

"Sorry, lost track of my thoughts." He was as surprised as her to hear that phrase. Usually his mind palace was a calmed and very hygienic place, but ever since he let those annoying feelings in, he could barely find anything there. "It happens often when you're around." he confessed

Molly took that as a complement and sighted as she shook her head. "Okay, say it."

"Excuse me?" Sherlock finally snapped out of his thoughts, trying to analyze her behavior.

"Say whatever is crossing that brilliant and neurotic mind of yours…" She grinned as she crossed her arms around her chest in resignation.

"I think our last words to each other should be more…significant." Sherlock was surprised by his emotional reaction, but over the years he had certainly accumulated lots of important observations and conclusions (some as trivial as how good she looked on May 23, 2007 or how she should smile more often) and he felt the strange need to share them

"Come on, this is your last chance to show off." Molly knew that a part of her just wanted to busrt out on 'I love you' s and cute things like that, but her other part still held the hope there was something more for them than dying there that day.

Sherlock seemed relieved.

"When I was in the cab, I texted Mycroft with a series of brilliant conclusions and clues…he just texted back I got it cover." Sherlock then grinned sarcastically. "Of course, he had no idea we would be held hostage by a crazy criminal who has a Goliat complex and…"

Sherlock kept talking, but Molly wasn't listening to him. She had just remembered something. Specifically, she had remembered where he had seen the cab driver before. He had seen him at Sherlock's "funeral".

It was raining that day and the man was holding an umbrella for…Mycroft Holmes.

Molly slipped her hand into the coat the driver had given her and she found exactly what she was looking for. A little smile played on her lips as she closed her hand around the object.

"So…who wants to go first?" Victor interrupted the whispered conversations with a bored expression. "We ain't got all day."

"I will be first." Sherlock step forward and molly let out a suffocated cry. Sherlock turned back to see her and smiled. Then he laid a soft kiss on her lips as he whispered "Forever yours, Molly Hooper."

Then he walked a few step forward and faced his eminent dead.

"I can go first, Sherlo…" John stood up, but Sherlock waved him off.

"No. It wouldn't be fair for Mary to take you away when you can still enjoy a few seconds together. Besides…I'm already dead." Sherlock explained with an strangely calmed voice.

He had been in this situation before. The difference was that on the roof, he knew his dead would finish it. This time, he couldn't save the ones he loved.

He looked at Valentina, who was covered on blood and tears. "Dead will be…" he started talking, but she nodded and completed it.

"…the greatest adventure."

With that, Sherlock closed his eyes and let go of his life.

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the deserted halls of the hospital. A deadly shot.

**Cliff hanger! Sorry but I just got into med school and I have less time to update Luckily, I see many people linking and reviewing this story, so I feel very honored. Also I want to tell you there will only be 2 more chapters and on the last one I plan to include a little talk where Sherlock reveals what he would tell Molly as his last words. Would you like that? Tell me about it. Enjoy!**


	12. I might be in love with you

**First of all, I want to thank everybody who congratulated me for med school, so sweet of you :´) also, I thought of making these chapter two instead, but it kind of took its own way. I hope that you liked this story because it was my very first Sherlock fic! Thanks' to everyone that reviewed and added this to their favorites.**

**Also Sherlock acts a little OOC at the end, but I really wanted him to act all fluffy and tender again! Also the song I used is Chaising Cars by snow Patrol and it's actually the song that I would use for MY wedding **

Dead wasn't supposed to feel like this. Dead was supposed to feel like something and right now, Sherlock didn't felt any different. Without opening his eyes, he touched his chest and then his head. They didn't seem any different. There was no pain or suffering as he believed there should be in this situation. He opened one eye and then another one and he couldn't see anything but blood.

Not his.

Victor was lying on the floor, with the cruel smirk still engraved in his face. Sherlock followed the trajectory of the shoot and turned around just to be shocked. "Molly Hooper…" he whispered.

Molly seemed as surprised as him. She was clearly still in shock because she couldn't let go of the gun. In fact, she was still pointing at Sherlock. Her hands were shaking and she looked really frightened, but she didn't move the weapon an inch when Sherlock approached her.

"Molly…let go of the gun now." Sherlock ordered softly as he made a cautious move to take the weapon from her hand.

"I…I don't think I can…" Molly confessed. She was clenching to the gun by simple survival instinct.

And following that instinct, she shot again when the door busted suddenly. A very alert and confused Lestrade opened the door also clenching to his gun "Jesus Molly! Drop that before you hurt yourself! You almost shoot my head off!"

Molly realized that was true and dropped the gun. Sherlock kicked it away.

"What's all this..? Sherlock is that man dead?" Lestrade tried to make some sense of what he saw.

"I'm not sure." Sherlock confessed as he grabbed the gun, walked to Victor's body and shot him twice before surrendering the weapon to Lestrade. "Yes, he is now."

"Sherlock! That's it! You're all arrested!" Lestrade's face was red with anger, but he was interrupted by John.

"Under what charges?"

"John!" Valentina's voice interrupted the detective who was about to answer. The girl was still holding Santiago's hand.

"Oh! Yes, excuse me." John approached the boy and took his pulse. His face became severe. "He's alive; barely. We have to call an ambulance immediately."´

Santiago opened his eyes just to see white everywhere. "Damn, I'm dead!" he thought as he looked around. Instead of finding angels and soft clouds like heaven was supposed to be like, she found Valentina curled up on a chair next to his bed. "Close enough.." he concluded as he shook her to wake up.

She was startled and almost feel off the chair. After she blinked once or twice confused, she looked at him happily. "Hey you…"

"Hey." He smiled. Then he remembered what had happened. "Is your father..?"

Valentina nodded, "Yes, Sherlock make sure of that." She added with a smile, "After Molly shot him."

Santiago looked at the girl with concern, not sure of how she reacted to that incident, "Are you okay with that?"

"I don't know. I think I will break down crying on any moment." After biting her lip, Valentina let out a giggle. Santiago liked when she giggled; she looked almost human. "I do that a lot."

"Yeah? Did you cried for me?" Santiago teased her, but he was actually intrigued by her answer.

"Yes, like the two first weeks or so."

His jaw dropped and his eyebrows rose, "How long it has been?"

"Well…" Valentina doubted and then approached her chair to be closer to him. "he first week you were on a ventilator; you looked like shit. We called your mom. She hadn't seen you in three years so it was quite a shock for her. She cried a little, then yelled at us and then cried some more. Finally she talked to my mom and both cried some more. Lately everyone is crying…"

"Is your mom okay?" Santiago was surprised to know he had been out for so long. To him, it felt like just a few hours but it had been really months.

"Yes!" Valentina's face lightened. "Turns out that the pills that they gave her worked just fine. She's lucid some times and just yesterday she called me for my name. Still, she has to stay on the asylum." Her smile faltered a little.

"Does that means you'll have to go to some orphan house or something?" he asked concerned.

She shook her head and blushed. "No, Sherlock worked that out, too. Do you know he has a brother? He convinced him of tutoring me. I live on a big house now, three bathrooms, pool…the whole deal. I still have to bear with Mycroft's eccentricities but he leaves me to my own mostly."

"Good. I'll have to thank Sherlock for the hospital bill, right?" Santiago asked with amusement and Valentina laughed again.

"You'll have a chance at John's wedding next week. I mean, if you still want to go with me…" Valentina suddenly seemed nervous and she avoided Santiago's look. "You don't have to, you know?"

"Didn't you hear a word I say before falling into a comma?" He smiled and she blushed a little.

"Yeah, but you were dying and all that adrenaline could be messing up with your thoughts, who knows?" Valentina sounded serious, but Santiago couldn't help to laugh.

"Come here." He ordered and she obeyed him.

He cupped her faced and kissed her. For the first time, Valentina felt pure happiness and of course, she thought he's lips tasted a whole better without the tears or the blood of the previous kiss. An annoying buzzing interrupted them.

"Ooops!" Valentina read a text on her cell phone and rolled her eyes. "I have to go, Mycroft is paranoid. Do you know he was the one that gave Molly the gun?"

"Go. I'll see you at the wedding." Santiago agreed as he reluctantly let go of her hand.

She stood up and then she started giving little jumps until she reached the door.

"What was that about?" Santiago raised his eyebrows.

"Emmm…I don't like stepping on the lines between the tiles. That's new." She bit her lip nervously and then grinned, "I'm still working on the pizza."

Santiago laughed.

Mary was a very determined person. If she decided to have the biggest, fanciest and more spectacular wedding that her 200 guest had ever seen, she would get it through, no matter what. At that moment, she looked like a five year old, contemplating with emotion every one of the white roses that were placed at the center of every table.

"It's stupid." Sherlock augmented, spoiling Mary's smile and earning a killing look from John. Sherlock just shacked his shoulders and explain. "Why would you place a thousand roses on vases and let them die there?"

"Because it looks fucking awesome." Mary snapped at the detective, making him blush and earning giggles from John and Molly.

"Try asking her why does she had to try on sixteen different dresses before picking one." Valentina, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the emotional charge in the room as well. "She already knew her size and there wasn't as if there were many color options, so why would she try…?"

Santiago interrupted the whispering by pulling Valentina's face and kissing her passionately. When she pulled back to get some air, she was blushing red but smiling. Sherlock gave Santiago a questioning look and he grinned. "Work's every time."

The music started and Mary recovered her energy. "Okay okay, hurry up! You're the guests of honor and you'll be sitting over there" Mary then pushed them (literally) to their seats before the other guest arrived.

Molly was lost on her thoughts. It had been really nice of Mary to let them see the venue first. It was a dream

The ceiling recreated a night's sky and candles floated around the tables hanging around from fake white trees. There were white roses on every table and the dance floor extended for so long that Molly couldn't see the end of it.

The groom looked very handsome and clean but the thing that stood out the most was his smile. Mary had never seen John smiling for so long and maybe it was because it was inevitable not to get caught on Mary's happiness. She looked perfect, in fact. She had a long mermaid dress covered up with white lace, with fine sleeves and a discrete neckline. Her blond wavy hair had been pulled back on a messy and loose bun, decorated with small white flowers.

Molly couldn't help to feel a bit inferior.

Mary had named her one of her bridesmaids and she had chosen a light pink color for their dresses but of course, she didn't looked anything like Valentina.

The younger girl had definitely taken some freedoms on the dressing code. She was wearing a light pale pink, Greek styled dress, with no back and very thigh on her body. Her hair was arranged loosely into waves pulled to one side and she had definitely caught some looks on their way to the venue; those looks were quickly discouraged by Santiago's threatening looks whose hands hadn't left her waist for a second.

Why she couldn't have something like that?

It had been a month since the shooting and Sherlock hadn't kissed her but twice and never in public. Molly sighted as she contemplated a candle sadly.

Molly was sad.

"_Molly is sad."_ Sherlock's brilliant mind registered as Molly contemplated a candle_. "Maybe it is such unrealistic expectations about love that were planted on her childish mind by fairytales and movies when she was a little girl or maybe they are the constant questions of her family asking why she hadn't a child yet."_

Sherlock continued scanning her and then he noticed just how beautiful she looked. Her strapless dress gave him a perfect size of those freckles on her back that he just loved. Her hair was styled into soft curls and her lips were on his favorite shade of pink. She was beautiful.

Sherlock's mouth pronounced the words before he could help it, "There won't be candles in our wedding. They are an unnecessary risk of fire and they occupy too much space…" Sherlock kept talking, ignoring Molly's shocked look. "There won't be a venue either. Maybe a discrete ceremony with just us and Mr. Hudson."

"Sherlock? What are you saying?" Molly's voice was shaking and her eyes filled with tears.

"Nothing…. I mean, I believe there's a procedure." Sherlock explained awkwardly as he took the candle form her hands and began examining it with concentration. "I have to fulfill other practical details as for example the purchase of the ring and I believe that you would like to dress up for the occasion, preferably on white…"

Sherlock's monologue was cut by Molly's lips crashing on his. He was taken back at the beginning but after inhaling her essence, he lost all sense of reason and responded passionately to the kiss. Molly's tears reached the corner of her lips and instinctively, Sherlock liked off one. Molly giggled and continued the kiss, sitting on her legs for better access to his mouth.

The kiss was interrupted by a discrete cough.

"Ejemm….excuse me." A very ashamed John Watson faced the couple. "I believe Mrs. Hudson is scolding you from her table, Sherlock."

Sherlock gave a quick glance to Mrs. Hudson, who was looking at him angrily as he chatted with Valentina's mom. Sherlock gave her an apologizing nod without moving his hand from Molly's waist.

"It's time for the speeches. You know, usually the best man gives a speech. To respect Marys sanity, please follow this script." John handed Sherlock a little paper.

Sherlock grinned as he read the paper. "Well jJohn, I would feel offended by your lack of trust but I take for granted that you will give me the freedom to write your speech on my wedding."

John started laughing but after noticing the tears and smile on Molly's face, he stopped "Holly shit!" After managing his surprise, he pulled molly and Sherlock for a hug, "Congratulations on you both! Damn it, I lost the bet. I'll have to pay Lestrade."

"Too bad he couldn't make it. His new job as chief supervisor of the whole unit must be exhausting." Valentina interrupted the conversation, holding a glass of wine.

"Aren't you too young for that? Mycroft's habits are starting to stick on you as I see" Sherlock asked, but then added "Have you heard the news, I'm getting marr…"

"Yes, I'll admit I'm a bit disappointed on you detective."Valentina smiled and looked at Molly "But I'll accept it if I get to be the maid of honor."

"Got it." Molly agreed and then released Sherlock and gently pushed him off his seat. "You've got a speech to give."

Everyone chuckled at Sherlock's pleading look.

_**We'll do it all**_

_**Everything**_

_**On our own**__**  
**_

_**We don't need Anything**_

_**Or anyone….**_

_The music was calmed and nice and the couples spin slowly following the rhythm. Over the corner of her eye Molly caught a glimpse of Santiago and Valentina making out. John and Mary were dancing too, looking at each other with love written all over their faces._

_"You shouldn't stare Molly, is not polite." Sherlock interrupted her observations with a grin. He probably already had scanned and deduced every detail on the room. Molly smiled. Never in a million years she thought she would have been sharing a dance with Sherlock._

_"You know, I've never told you what my last words would had been." Molly admitted as Sherlock raised an eyebrow._

_****__**If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me,**_

_**And just forget the world?**__**  
**__**I don't quite know**_

_**How to say**_

_**How I feel**_

_****__**Those three words**_

_**Are said too much**_

_**They're not enough**_

_The lyric seemed to fit her words exactly as she started speaking. "I would have tell you that I love you. I love you for all that you are: brilliant, handsome, strong and determined; but specially for everything you're not. I would have told you I love the fact that you make me strong." Molly finished the words just before a tear escaped her eye, one that he wiped gently._

_His eyes were filled with emotion. Never had somebody cared so much for him. A part of him told him not to show his emotions; not to show his weaknesses._

_****__**If I lay here**_

_**If I just lay here**_

_**Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?**__**  
**__**Forget what we're told.**_

_**Before we get too old.**_

_**Show me a garden.**_

_**That's bursting into life**_

_He told that part of himself to fuck itself. "Molly Hooper. Before I met you I wasn't complete. I use to think that love was a weakness but I was greatly mistaken. Your love for example, has giving me the strength to make it through all what lies ahead. I love the fact that I don't have to pretend around you. I love that you need me so much. I love that…" Sherlock's voice faltered a little, "…that you're willing to give your life for me. I'd die happily for you."_

_**Let's waste time**_

_**Chasing cars**_

_**Around our heads**__**  
**__**I need your grace**_

_**To remind me**_

_**To find my own**__**  
**__**If I lay here**_

_**If I just lay here, **_

_**Would you lie with me and just forget the world?**_

_****__**Forget what we're told**_

_**Before we get too old. **_

_**Show me a garden.**_

_**That's bursting into life**__**  
**__**All that I am**_

_**All that I ever was**_

_**Is here in your perfect eyes**_

_**They're all I can see**__**  
**__**I don't know where**_

_**Confused about how as well**_

_**Just know that these things**_

_**Will never change for us at all….**_

_"Molly Hooper." Sherlock smiled and approached his face to hers. "I think I might be in love with you."_

_**If I lay here, If I just lay here**_

_**Would you lie with me and just forget the world?**_


End file.
